A Bucketful of Toreadork
by SickoLady
Summary: Vriska's black feelings for Tavros turn to red after they have sex, sending Gamzee into a violent, psychotic rage. What results is a battle for Tavros' affections. Redrom Vriska/Tavros. Blackrom Gamzee/Tavros. bondage. explicit. This is garbage. I acknowledge that.
1. Chapter 1

This a Tavros/ Vriska centric rewrite of something I previously deleted. It contains dark, mature themes, and explicit sexual content. I'll respond to any reviews I get for this in the next week, so please comment. You can tell me if you hated it. I'll just be thrilled you said anything at all. Constructive criticism is welcome. I'm not the kind of author that gets all mad when I'm criticized. Expect more chapters soon.

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**V8ska and tAVROS**

Vriska stared at Tavros through narrowed eyes, and he looked down at his lap, glanced up at her sympathetically and then looked down at his lap again, his hands gripping the spokes of his wheelchair tentatively.

"You know you don't have to do this," said Tavros "If you don't want to. Uhh...I mean if you're scared or something, or if you're not ready. You...uh well you don't have to. I mean, I know you're under a lot of pressure from everyone to uhh...to uh...you know...to do the thing...but I don't want you to feel like there's any pressure from me."

Vriska glared at him. How dare he suggest that she was afraid of anything. Her hands balled into fists and shook with what she assured herself was rage.

Tavros looked away again in embarrassment, and assuming an expression of mildly pissed off curiosity, Vriska began to observe him critically. She had always found him good looking, tall and strong with thick shoulders and long bull-like horns. It was the thing that had drawn her to him in the first place, his masculine frame. Always he seemed older and more physically mature than the other trolls, and always he gave people the first impression of being much more intimidating than he actually was...until, of course, he opened his mouth.

His arms were muscular, now, from years of pulling himself around in the wheelchair, and months of dragging himself up flights of steps. His hair shaved on the sides, a tuft of it ran down the center of his forehead in a thick black mo-hawk. Below it she observed his concerned face so sweet and boyish despite the long sharp fangs that curled out from his mouth in a gooberish over bite that, as a low blood troll, he would never have been able afford to fix. Her eyes locked on his for a moment, and his lower lip quivered. A pair of bronze-colored tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

"Vriska..." he said.

Vriska tore her eyes away from his, and a dull blue blush crept its way across her grey face. She didn't know why. He'd cried in front of her so many times before. Why should it make her uncomfortable now?

"Vriska...if you don't want to...I understand. You can wait if you want until we're both older. Or if you uh...if you want to maybe a with troll who's not uhh...you k-know...me."

He stared down again, his cheeks flushing the same bronze color as the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes.

"Ugh. You're so lame, Tavros," groaned Vriska. "You know they probably stuck me with you out of spite because of how jealous they are of my incredible awesomeness."

This certainly wasn't true, as Vriska was well aware. The memory of Terezi's stinging comment on the subject was still fresh in her mind.

"_She's possessive of him...like a human_," Terezi had whispered very seriously to Karkat as he was organizing the shipping board. "_She'd probably have a heart attack and die if someone else tried to touch him. It's ridiculous, really_."

The S-burg asteroid had destroyed their native planet and decimated their species. Thus, the twelve trolls had made a decision, mate and reproduce in the forbidden way, without the buckets, until the species was restored to its former grandeur. To clear up confusion, a shipping chart had been drawn up to decide upon preliminary partners, and predictably, Vriska had been paired with Tavros. The rationalization being that if another Troll tried to touch Tavros, Vriska would go ape-shit crazy and stab them until they were dead. Vrska denied this accusation outwardly, but inwardly...suspected that it may have been true.

Tavros lifted one of his hands from his wheel chair, and reached out to touch one of her hands, still balled into shaking fists. She pulled back instinctively, and in that moment of panic a curtain of her long, black hair came loose from the bobby pin that she used to keep it out of her face, momentarily obscuring her field of vision. Quickly she swept it to the side and brushed it behind one pointed ear, and then readjusted her glasses, managing to crush the expression of panic that she felt force itself onto her face almost as suddenly as it had appeared.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I...I..uhh...I didn't mean to scare you," stuttered Tavros apologetically.

"Oh puh-lease, what are you trying to make me laugh myself into a coma? Like I could be scared of _you_."

She meant this as an insult, but Tavros smiled as though relieved. His eyes filled with some very bizarre and un-troll-like affection for her which was more akin to the Troll disease of friendship than it was to red or black romance.

She walked over to his wheel chair, her yellow eyes widening with curiosity and anticipation. She wanted him. She couldn't help but want him.

"...Can you even?" she asked.

"I can," he said.

"But I mean, can you even feel anything down there?" she asked.

"Yea," he said. "It kind of uh...come and goes more or less randomly. I can right now."

"But you're not going to loose feeling of your dick in the middle of us doing it, are you?" inquired Vriska off-handedly. "Because that could really put a cramp in my style."

"No...," said Tavros. "I don't...think it works that way."

She reached out and pulled the black button down shirt off of his shoulders. It slipped down his arms and fell into a crumpled heap onto the seat of his wheel chair. She grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and tried to wrench it over his head, but his horns got into the way. She yanked at the collar for several moments in frustration, and finally pulled at the base of the shirt in a way that made the folds of its black fabric obscure the upped half of his face.

"It zippers in the back," he offered helpfully.

Vriska found the zipper that he was talking about on the back of his shirt collar and pulled it open. Then she pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it across the room.

Tavros reached a hand out to touch the hem of Vriska's shirt.

"...Can I?"

"This is getting stupid," said Vriska. "And no..._My_ cloths stay on."

"...Please?"

"Fine, you can take my shirt off if you want to, but the bra stays _on_."

With shaking fingers, he removed her gray jacket and the black shirt underneath. She could feel his eyes on her, staring at her grey breasts, beneath an opaque layer of lacy blue fabric.

"Take your pants off," she told him.

"Uhh...ok."

He wheeled himself over to the mattress that was in the room, behind where Vriska was standing. The other trolls had told him about this bizarre object. This was the human equivalent of a recupericoon, but also...sometimes the humans had sex on top of it.

He lifted himself out of the wheelchair, and onto the bed, pulling his body and useless legs along with his muscular arms.

"Ugh, this is taking too long," said Vriska. "You're so pathetic."

She walked over to him, and unzipped his pants, then seized them by the waste and yanked them down. Tavros flinched as she grabbed the elastic of his underpants and yanked those down as well. He felt the blood rush to his face with embarrassment.

He was totally naked now and she was still almost entirely clothed.

"Aren't going to uhh...take anything else off?" he asked her, feeling very self conscious.

"No, I don't think so," she said.

"...Please?" he asked her.

"No fucking way."

"But Vriska, it would...uh...it won't w-work if..."

"There," she said, unzipping the fly on the front of her jeans. "Problem solved."

She moved closer to him and put her arms around his shoulders, enjoying the feel of his hard chest against her breasts. He smelled good, she decided, and his bare skin felt smooth and welcoming, in the places where it pressed against her own. His arms wrapped around her, and she leaned into the warmth of his body. He nuzzled his face against hers and she felt the rough texture of his chin against her cheeks. He kissed her on the lips cautiously, and she grabbed the back of his head, pressing her lips his against his as she pushed her tongue into his mouth. She could feel a heat growing in her abdomen, as she kissed him, accompanied by the urge to thrust her pelvis in his direction.

"...I think the sex is happening," she moaned, though in truth she wasn't entirely sure what the sex was or how it worked.

"V-vriska I...I...uhh...I don't think..."

"Shut up." she snapped "I said the freaking sex is happening."

He kissed her, and she grabbed a handful of his bare ass, grinding against his naked body. He felt himself get hard against the cold zipper of her open jeans.

"Uhhhh..."

He put a hand on her breast and kissed her on the mouth, feeling the details of her pointed teeth with his tongue. She smacked him on the rump, with her prosthetic arm and the impact of the metal appendage against his bare skin left a deep bronze bruise. He whimpered but the sound was muffled by her mouth pressed against his. She smacked him again and he broke the kiss.

"Oww! Vriska, you're too rough."

"Oh, suck it up, Torreodork."

His erection grew and she thrust against him, feeling him, for the first time, enter her body.

"...Ohh...yes...yeesss..." she moaned, grinding her sensitive spot against his erect shaft. "...Fuck..._yes_..."

The warmth of his body against hers, the smell of his hair, the feel of his hard muscles and soft skin, the low timber of his voice as he groaned when she hit him, it was all too much for her. She lost herself in the ecstasy of the moment, her brain reeling with images of him nude and humiliated, waiting for her on the bare mattress, his horns, his chest, his fat rump, his throbbing bone bulge. She let out an involuntary noise that was something between a moan and a hiss as she felt the muscles contract in her lower abdomen and the accompanying rush of pleasure that came with it. Her eyes dilated momentarily and the world was a blur of grey and yellow. She could think of nothing but the pleasure and for a moment there was nothing, nothing but the alien hiss of her own mindless ecstasy, so close yet far away, it was so strange to her that it might have belonged to another person, and as her mind returned to her the only thing she could think, over and over again as she continued to grind against him was: _Was that...was that...what orgasm fells like...? _She became determined to get the feeling again.

Tavros moaned with pleasure as she thrust against him, arching his back above his imobile hips. She slapped his behind as hard as she could and he let out a sharp: "_Ouch!"_

He felt humiliated to have his to have his bear bottom strubbed like that, no one was watching him, but he still felt humiliated and the bruises really, really hurt...yet for some reason he didn't actually want her to stop. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was how much pleasure she seemed to get from it. Maybe it was his fucked up nervous system telling him the wrong things.

"Ouch! Ow! Oww!" he yelped when she hit him, and a slow grin spread across her fanged mouth. He was being a bit theatrical about it because she seemed to like that.

She thrust against him and he felt a rush a pleasure, moaning as he ejaculated his seed into her body. She made a hissing noise that was purr-like and arched her back, the black pupils of her eyes growing large within their yellow irises.

They collapsed into each other's arms, mellow through the veil of their post-orgasmic bliss.

For a while they lay there silently, staring at the dimly lit ceiling, which was a thing made beautiful by their altered state. Vriska turned onto her side to nuzzle her face against the rough texture of Tavros' chin, and he stroked a lock of her long black hair lovingly. She let him put his hands under her bra and massage her nipples.

"You know, I've learned from sitcoms and movies that men hate it when you talk after sex, but I really don't give a fuck. I've just gotta' say. That was amazing," said Vriska.

Tavros rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling again."

"..._Vriska_...I..._I...love you," _he said.

She turned her head to stare at him, and observed that his eyes, wet with the validity of this inadvisable emotion. As strongly as she felt for him she could not bring herself to repeat the words back. He was a bronze blood, after all, awkward, dorkish, and vastly inferior to her by virtually every standard to be conceived by troll kind. Never, in the course of her short life time, had she ever met a shyer, more awkward, pitiful, geeky dweeb...Yet, in this moment, she was sure she loved him...She couldn't say it, though...she just wouldn't. She refused to. So instead she said:

"...I know."


	2. Chapter 2

**GaMzEe MaKaRa on Addiction, Rejection, and Shifting Allegiances**

For Gamzee Makara every morning was exactly the same. He woke up, strolled over to the mirror at the opposite side of the room, took the curlers out of his perm and smeared his face with white clown makeup. Then, he opened to the drawer under the mirror where he kept his stash. This was a super concentrated translucent green ooze that he kept in pie tins and glass vials with corks for stoppers. He took one of the vials from the drawer, stuck a hypodermic needle through the cork and filled it with ooze. Then he tapped the needle with his finger nail to make sure there were no air bubbles in it. He looked up for a moment and stared at himself in the mirror doing this.

He used to drink soper slime as a form of religious ceremony, to commune with the miraculous, mother-fuckin', mirthful messiahs, but now he took it because he _needed_ it. He _needed_ it to face the _fucking_ day. It was never enough to drink it anymore, he had to shoot it up or snort it through a straw.

He searched the draw and found a thick piece of rubber, some kind of a giant deflated balloon animal, which he used to tie off below his right bicep. Grotesque green tracts ran though his tortured veins in the place where he always shot up, standing out in stark contrast against his grey skin. He slid the needle into one of the bulging green veins and pressed down on the plunger of the hypodermic needle.

"Mother-fucking..._bitch tits_..." he moaned as the rush of what had once been pleasure came instead as a rush of relief, of normalcy, of feeling somewhat more like his old self.

The feeling, however, was short lived, and in a few minutes it was replaced with the crushing reality of un-amusing everything really fucking was. He hated his friends, he decided. They were all so mother-fucking stupid..._so mother-fucking stupid_. He could hardly believe that he had ever given a shit about them in the first place. Those little mother-fuckers could all die for all he cared...along with the whole shitty Alternian race.

He refilled the hypodermic needle and shot up again. This time the drug's effect was stronger. He felt pacified. The colors and shapes of the room stood out bright and bold, beautiful, miraculous. The floor seemed to shake when he moved across it, the room to dance with the glorious mysterious of an unknowable world. He said a quick prayer to his mirthful messiahs, and then staggered from the room into the hallway chuckling at nothing as the world spun around him.

His day dreams came to him in the form of horrific hallucinations. He saw piss-blooded Sullux's dripping, eyeless face, staring up at him from the floor, shrieking and cursing him with every horrified, agonized cry. A grin crept over Gamzee's face, as he stomped on red and blue lenses of the phantom Sullux's fallen sun glasses, cackling with delight as they were crushed to powder under his foot.

"Fuck you, you piss-blooded mother fucking show off." he said to the non-existent Sullux, and his empty eye sockets seemed to urinate an ugly mustard-colored mixture of blood and tears.

Gamzee laughed until his throat was raw and then turned to find a phantom Nepeta, grinning in her idiotic fucking way. He skewered her through the chest with a non-existent sword, and she bled emerald green confetti and sparkly pink butterflies. She then lurched forward and vomited a dozen whole pink frosted cupcakes. They looked just like the ones that she had once baked for him on his wriggling day.

"Dipshit flake." he spat at the phantom Nepeta that lay dying at his feet. Then he laughed and laughed until the real trolls started to walk into the hallway and stare at him. He knew that they were the real trolls this time because when he wished bad things would happen to them they stayed the same.

He made a gun with his fingers and pointed at Karkat's forehead, pretending to shoot.

"Bang!" he exclaimed.

Karkat stood there with an irritated look on his face, completely obvious to the dripping, red bullet hole that Gamzee was hallucinating on his forehead.

"You just keep getting weirder and weirder don't you," said Karkat.

"Heh heh heh..hah hah ha he he...HAH HAH HAH! You have no mother-fuckin' idea, bro. It's the mother-fucking tiz nits in here!

"Wait that doesn't even make any kind of fucking sense! Listen Gamzee, we all hear you muttering things, and screaming and laughing at nothing all of them time. We're-I'm starting the think...that maybe you're starting to lose it."

"Leave him alone, Karkat, you know he's just high off his ass like always," said Sullux.

"You know I hate to be the buzz kill," said Karkat. "But we're starting to get concerned about your drug problem, Gamzee."

"Well I don't give a fuck," said Terezi "But basically that's true."

Gamzee stared at the group of them with an open mouthed expression and through the haze of his dilution they all seemed to blur together into one hideous, grey blob, so much so that it was difficult for him to tell which of them were actually there.

"Tav...heh heh heh ha ha ha hah...hey Tav pupa!" he slurred, staggering toward the crowd of Trolls to see if he could find Tavros among them.

"My pupa went over the ocean...my pupa went over the sea...my pupa went over the ocean...please bring back my pupa to meeee..." Gamzee sang.

"He's not here," said Feferi.

"Well where the mother-fuck is he then?"

"He's with Vriska," said Terezi. "Repopulating troll kind, you know, like we're all supposed to be. Speaking of which, how did it go with Eridan, Feferi?"

"It was...not that great. His foreplay consisted mostly of him trying to convince me that Gandalf could beat Dumbledore in a wizard duel. He's wrong though...he's so wrong."

The trolls walked away all laughing and arguing amongst each other as to whether Dumbledore or Gandalf would win in a wizard duel. Gamzee remained in the hallway, silent, still, breathing heavy and staring at the wall in front of him. It bled rainbows of radiating light. The trolls' conversation turned into an argument about whether Dumbledore or Gandalf would be on top if they had sex before they were out of earshot, and finally dissolved into a screaming match between Terezi and Nepeta about whether Dumbledore and Gandalf would be moirals or kismasises.

_Mother-fucking idiots, _Gamzee thought, when they were at last far enough away from him for their incessant chatter to fade to inaudible noises and then, at long last, vanish all together.

So Tavros was trying to impregnate Vriska, now. That was so mother-fucking wrong. Gamzee was sure that if he hadn't been high of his ass, he'd have been much more enraged about it then he currently was. Trolls were supposed to share partners. Jealousy assuming it spanned the width of multiple quadrants, was highly taboo, a foreign thing, to be entertained by humans and weirdos like Tavros Nitram.

Again, Gamzee's daydreams surfaced in the ripples of reality. Violent, horrific images assaulted his vision, with a vivid, devious veracity that would have traumatized a wacko half as psychotic, and he laughed because he liked what he saw.

A little voice in his head spoke disapprovingly of this laugher.

_No, no,_ it said. _This is too terrible._ _You've gone too far._

_"Shuddup...you..."_ Gamzee slurred at the foreign voice. "_Aum...gonna' go...heh heh heh...gonna' go watch 'em fuck...heh...ha HA HA HA HA_...that should be fun."

...

Vriska and Tavros laid on a bare mattress, just staring at the ceiling and grinning like they were high. Tavros, reached out next to him and gripped her hand in his. Vriska squeezed back gently, pretending as though she barely noticed this or that she was too tired to care.

"...I'm cold," said Tavros after awhile. He was still naked, though slightly less embarrassed about it then he had been previously. His clothes had been flung off somewhere into one of the shadowy corner of the room, and he imaged it'd be a big, annoying production, dragging himself back into his wheel chair to go look for them.

Vriska crawled over to him and covered his naked body with her partially clothed one.

"Better?" she asked him groggily.

"Yes, thank you," he said, wrapping his arms around her.

He hugged her to his chest, enjoying the warmth of her body against his. It was good to be close to her.

She put her head down on his chest and closed her eyes, feeling her head rise and fall as he breathed in and out. She could hear his heart beat, pumping that dark, muddy-orange colored blood to all of the extremities of his body.

"Can you feel your lower half now?" she asked him.

"Uh...no not now, sorry."

Vriska grunted with disappointment and closed her eyes again.

"Tavy-Tav-Tavros-Tavy-Tav," she sang, stroking the dark hair of his Mohawk lovingly.

"...Huh?"

"It's a song I'm writing," explained Vriska defensively. "It's called 'Tavros is really stupid and lame and you should definitely point and laugh at him when ever you see him'."

"...That's a really great title," said Tavros. "Uhh...want to have sex again?"

"Ok," said Vriska. "But only for the repopulation of the Alternian race thing."

A few moments passed in awkward silence and then Vriska said:

"This time I think we should do it differently, you know like, with roll playing and stuff."

"I like role playing," said Tavros.

"I know you do."

Gamzee watched them through a one of narrow slivers in the grate that covered the ventilation duct leading into the room, annoyed with their moronic pillow talk and impatient to witness some hard-core fucking. He took a swig of his orange fago, salivating with anticipation. He knew Vriska well enough to know that her suggesting some "role playing" could only mean one thing.

"Ok," said Vriska. "So I'm the Marquis de Spinneret and you're the Summoner."

"Uh huh." said Tavros.

Vriska tossed his clothes onto the bed and he started to put them back on.

"I have captured you and am holding you for ransom on my pirate ship," she said finding her shirt and jacket in a crumpled heap on the floor and putting them back on.

"Right," said Tavros.

"-But no one will pay a ransom for you because you are worthless and a totally crappy officer. So the ransom is lowered. The ransom is now a Ti teriyaki breakfast burrito with fries and a strawberry-banana slushy. After serious consideration, your fellow officers reluctantly agree to the terms. They attempt to bargain their way out of giving me the fries, but fail miserably due to my clearly vastly superior bargaining skills."

"I don't see how trading a hostage for a breakfast burrito and some fries qualifies you as having 'vastly superior bargaining skills'," said Tavros.

"Lets assume I was hungry and that you were annoying me," said Vriska. "Always unwittingly interrupting with your constant annoying interruptions, while I'm trying to spin you a story line. I can see why they traded you for a happy meal...bastards didn't even give me the toy that comes with the box. I am so outraged by this oversight that I decide to project my frustrations onto you. I decide to keep you and you become my slave. In this way you assume the roll of the thing that I at one point sought to trade you for. You become... the toy that comes with the box."

"...Wow,"said Tavros. "You've spent long of time thinking about this haven't you?"

"I'm sorry, is there a pull string on this toy that comes with the box, Mr. Interrupty pants."

"Uhh...I don't know, maybe."

"That question was rhetorical," said Vriska. She found some rope on the floor of the room and began it to tie his hands behind his back. She then took another piece of rope and tied his ankles together. A third piece of rope was used to tie his ankles to his horns so that he appeared hog-tied, his already immobile legs stretching up awkwardly behind his back.

"I feel ridiculous," said Tavros.

"As you should, Summoner, as you should," said Vriska, assuming a villainous, dominant stance. She spoke in a more pompous annunciated way when she was pretending to be the Marquis de Spinneret. "You're comrades traded you for a breakfast burrito, bastards couldn't even spare me the toy that comes with the box! Tell me, is that really how much your life is worth to them?"

"Arg...ye lassy I believe it is." replied Tavros in a Scottish accent.

"Ok...Tavros? _Why_ is he _Scottish_?"

"I don't know he uhhh...he just seems Scottish to me I guess."

"The _Summoner_," said Vriska. "Is an Alternian space officer..._who lives_..._in_ _space_. He has never been to Scotland nor is he likely to know what that is."

"Arrr...lassy, but I have been ter Scotland. Au've been thar in me mind, In me books that au've been readin' about Earth...what annoyed me comrades so much thaught they thought to get rid of me fer a breakfast burrito and a soft drink," said Tavros.

"Yes, yeesss, I can certainly understand their decision to do that now," Said Vriska, speaking like the Marquis de Spinneret again. "How could I have been so foolish? They disposed of you on purpose because of your being so annoying what with the fake Scottish accent and what not! How dare they... how dare they mislead me, me the Marquis de Spinneret who is cooler and more awesome than any of them!"

At this point Gamzee was getting annoyed by this unnecessary complex story line and its slow progression. Who the fuck cared whether, Tavros spoke with a fake Scottish accent...or his character did? And who in their right mind could possibly give two shits that Vriska's character was screwed out of the prize at the bottom of the cracker jack box...or whatever the fuck she was talking about. He wanted to see some debauchery happen and fast. Damn it, he wanted to live vicariously.

_At least take his mother-fuckin' clothes off...you mother-fuckin' bitch_, he thought, taking another swig of the orange faygo. It was taking all of the restraint he had left to stop himself from jumping through the grate and brutally murdering them both.

Vriska walked up to Tavros and put her hands on either of his bound horns, staring him strait in the eye. Tavros looked back at first, but then blushed and looked down.

"All I have to show for this campaign...is _you_," Vriska hissed spitefully. "However, I, the Marquis de Spinneret as infinitely cool and awesome as I am...can make the best of a bad situation."

She moved her face closer to his, so that their noses were less than an inch away from each other, still staring into his increasingly nervous looking yellow eyes. Then she unzipped her pants and let them fall. From Gamzee's angle, he could only see her pale, grey thighs poking out from underneath of her long, button-down shirt-but he imagined that Tavros was probably staring directly at her hooch.

"You will bring me to climax with only your tongue," announced Vriska. "If you can successfully do this than I will unbind you and release you from my custody...but if you can not...then you will be severely disciplined."

"Uh...wow...that sound...uhhh...that s-sounds...really hard to do..." stuttered Tavros.

"Do it or be strubbed until you howl with pain and beg to be shown mercy," Vriska said.

"Oh...Ok," said Tavros.

_So this was what it was leading up to?,_ Gamzee thought, grinning in his deranged way. _An excuse for her to all up and degrade and humiliate him? Serves him right for rejecting my red advances, that mother-fuckin' shit-blooded, bitch boy. I hope she makes that dumb mother-fucker cry his shitty tears._

Gamzee found himself confronted with violently unwholesome thoughts, possibly the result of the diminishing effects of his spiked faygo. The image of Tavros "crying his shitty tears" was bold and vivid, but safely inside of his head and thus clearly segregated from what he could perceive as reality. In the absence of his high, however, there was nothing funny about this. The thought merely filled him with feelings of rage and self righteousness, of being justified in his enjoyment of the lowblood's pain.

_Serves him right for rejecting my red advances._

Gamzee placed the now empty bottle of faygo down on the floor of the vent, carefully so as not to make a sound. He suspected this was going to be..._miraculous_.

* * *

Author's note: I'll post another chapter of this when (or if) I get at least two more reviews. Though I do have a vague idea about how this is going to turn out, nothing is really written in stone at this point. You can write me some suggestions about what you'd like to see happen, and If I like them I will use them. If I don't like them I'll just ignore them. I won't be mean about it or anything. It's just a drag to write about stuff I'm not personally interested in. I have also written chapters about other trolls that play a more minor role in this story, and will post these chapters if you request them. Gamzee will play a much more significant role in future chapters, as you've probably already figured out.

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	3. Chapter 3

**The Marqu8s de Sp8nneret Un-Wraps her pRIZE**

Amongst the trolls, it was common knowledge that Equius had purchased a number of nude hoof beast paintings from an eBay art auction, and had them delivered to the asteroid via intergalactic mail ship. He used them to decorate his room, which was the place were he slept, but was also a sort of gym/ robotics workshop that all of the trolls used from time to time.

"This, Nepeta," he explaining directing the troll's attention to a large, silver framed painting of a nude horse-like monster with a long erect shaft. "Is an original Labrii Coszer painted in 18th sweep of the 32sd troll equinox. It is a naturalistic depiction of a wild hoof beast standing tall and_ strong_ on a prominent ledge against a backdrop of stunning blues and purples. If you look closely you will notice that the implied lines running from the edge of the animal's erect shaft lead you eye directly to the constellation Leo, representing the blue bloods' noble responsibility to guide and protect all lower blood castes. The animal's expression of tranquil humility, on the other hand, serves as a reminder that a_ wise_ blue blood is ever aware of the purple bloods' naturally superior intellect and morality, and thus, should justly submit to his or her superior's authority. This painting serves as a reminder of the natural order of things, but equally as importantly, it celebrates the beauty of the male anatomy."

Equius paused momentarily to stoop down and lift one of the weighted barbells that lined the parameter of the room, flexing his massive body builder biceps for dramatic effect. Nepeta clapped for him and exclaimed:

"Equius is strong, yay!"

"The _strength_ of the male anatomy was often a theme in Coszer's works," Equius continued. "His paintings frequently invite the viewer to appreciate the temple-like sacredness of the masculine body's exquisite power and functionality; to insist that all male bodies, particularly one's own, should be cared for and treated with respect. Thus, this painting and others like it exemplify the idea that the body is a temple, not to be corrupted by drugs, high fructose corn syrup, Betty-Crocker cake products, bad cholesterol or swearing. Further more, regular exercise of both the body and mind is necessary and appropriate. This, as you know, is the principle by which I live my life."

Nepeta stared at Equius, smiling politely and curling a gray finger through the ends of her short black hair to stop herself from getting too distracted. In truth she hadn't really been listening to Equius' longwinded explanation of the giant penis painting, instead, she'd been watching his sweaty muscular body walk back and forth in front of her. He wore a pair of athletic shorts and a black sleeveless muscle shirt that clung to the contours of his pristinely cared for body, leaving very little to the imagination.

"...Whoo-hoo! Art Jargon! High culture! Lookat dat dong!" Nepeta exclaimed. It seemed like he had been waiting for a response and this was the best one she could think of.

"...Ah, Nepeta, you are so charmingly parochial." said Equius.

_Clank, clank, clank...B_oth trolls fell silent and turned in the direction of this sudden mysterious noise. It seemed to be coming from the one of the walls.

"What is that?" muttered Equius uncertainly.

"I think we should go check it out," suggested Nepeta.

...

Gamzee pressed his face against the grate, peering soberly into the room were Tavros and Vriska were up to their depraved sex acts. He tapped his foot against the floor of the ventilation grate and it made a loud, metallic clanking noise. In hindsight, this probably wasn't the smartest choice, but the effects of the drug, though at this point, residual, had still not completely diminished. Vriska turned in his direction just long enough for him to glimpse her curly black pom-pom of a troll pussy.

"What the fuck was that," she said. Then, having convinced herself that it was nothing, she turned back toward the bound Tavros. His face, which lay at the edge of the bare mattress, was level with her crotch.

"You will pay the Marquis de Spinneret for the prize that she has lost in oral sex," she commanded in her Marquis de Spinneret voice. "Go."

"Uh...um...o-ok...uhhh...here I go...I-I guess..." said Tavros.

He closed his eyes and stuck his tongue out.

There was a knock on the door.

"Who the fuck is it?" shouted Vriska angrily.

"It's Nepeta and Equius," replied Nepeta from behind the door.

"Nepeta, if you don't leave us the fuck alone I swear to the betentacled dark gods, I'm gonna' tell Equius you ate that giant bag of potato chips!"

"She lies! She's lying!" asserted Nepeta's muffled voice from behind the door.

"And Equius if you don't get your toned muscular ass as far away from here as possible, I might have to tell Nepeta that you used her tooth brush to scrub the loadgappers and then forgot and let her brush her teeth with it for a month!"

"Ewwww! Why would you _do_ that?"

"She's exaggerating!" announced Equius defensively. "It couldn't have been more than a couple of weeks. Nepeta! ...Nepeta! Come back!"

Vriska listened for the sounds of their feet tromping away into the distance, and when at last she was convinced that they were far out of earshot, she proclaimed:

"Well, that took care of those dumb-asses."

Tavros closed his eyes, blushing hard.

"Vriska, I uh...I don't think I want to do this anymore. I'm starting to feel like we have an uhh...an uhhh...you know...an audience."

"Oh, just shut up and start licking my pussy already."

"O-ok, alright uh...here I go."

She flinched as she felt his tongue flick out and braze the opening between her legs. It was cold and moist, and the rough texture of its surface momentarily brushed against her clitoris.

"..._Ungh_...Again, more, faster."

She felt Tavros' tongue penetrate her in response to this command, moving nervous from side to side as he burrowed his face into her. She felt her hips thrust forward more or less involuntarily.

Watching this, Gamzee stuck his hand, still sticky with what little remained of his spiked faygo, down the front of his pants. He was a virgin but he had always wondered just what exactly it would feel like to mouth rape someone, and often fantasized about it while he was tripping balls on soper slime. As he stroked his growing bone bulge as he imagined ramming his cock down Tavros Nitram's throat, pounding against his vulnerable esophagus until the stupid mother-fucker coughed up blood.

_Choke...on...my..._dick_, mother-fucker...,_he thought, pulling at the base of his shaft.

It wasn't right to him that Tavros did basically anything that Vriska told him to do. Why did he like her so much better than him-and after everything that he'd done for that unappreciative, low blood, weakling, dweeb, after all of the shit that she'd put him through...Was just because she was a woman? That was a such a stupid reason!

Gamzee's hands pumped up and down the shaft of his throbbing bone bulge with the relentless veracity of his growing hatred. One way or another, he was going to get that shit-blood mother-fucker alone. He was going to make him cry his shitty tears.

"...Unnghhh...," Vriska moaned, thrusting her pelvis in the direction of Tavro's protruding tongue. She was starting to get that tense feeling in her lower abdomen, the feeling that she had learned meant that she was close to orgasm. Again, she pictured the contours of Tavros' large, masculine body, this time contorted in bondage and helpless against the power of her manipulative will. That body, waiting for her below the thin packaging of his clothes, vulnerable and waiting for her to unwrapped...she gasped as the rush of pleasure came to her, consuming her consciousness entirely. For a few moments, the world was far away, insignificant. The only thing that remained was Tavros' nervously flicking tongue tickling her clitoris-prolonging her moment of ecstasy.

The consuming pleasure faded to a feeling of post-orgasmic contentment. She put her hand on Tavros' forehead.

"That's enough," she said.

Tavros withdrew his tongue and sighed.

"Wers that ter yer likein' Lassy?" said Tavros in a very fake sounding Scottish accent.

"Again with the accent, Summoner?" said Vriska, speaking like the Marquis De Spinneret again. She hitched up her pants, zipped them closed and buttoned the fly. "Your obsession with these bizarre humans and personal choice to speak like them is irritating at best and at worst...really, really fucking irritating. Stop being Scottish at once."

"Ay, but I successfully completed yer challenge, did ay not? And if I am rememberin' wot yer said correctly then thaught means that ya' have ter let meh go free."

"Yes, yesss...except you forgot the part where I lied," enunciated Vriska pompously.

"Uh...What?"

"That's right. I'm a villain and I lie about things," said Vriska, running her finger along the edge of one of his bound horns. She walked around the side of the bed. "Deal with it."

She slapped his lightly on the butt and he let out a grunt of pain, as her hand struck a deep bruise.

"Seriously, Vriska, having my legs tied to my horns like this is starting to hurt my back" said Tavros in his regular voice.

She looked down at him, and observed that his brows were taunt with discomfort, his mouth clamped tight against the sore, stretched feeling of being forced into that unnatural position. An involuntary little sympathetic smile curled the corners of her blue painted mouth, and she removed a knife from the inside of her grey jacket. He began to tremble, eyeing the knife fearfully-but then she patted his shoulder gently to calm him...and began sawing at one of the ropes that bound his ankles to his horns. She sawed through the left rope first, and then the right rope, gently placing his legs back behind him on the mattress, and then, removing the bits of rope that remained from his horns. She left his hands tied.

"Awww..." she crooned massaging his lower back momentarily.

Tavros breathed an appreciative sigh of relief.

"...But don't think you'll get off that easily, Summoner!" said Vriska suddenly assuming the role of the Marquis de Spinneret again. "You have insulted me by asserting that you know the rules of my game better than I do and this is a display of insolence worthy of a punishment!"

She sat down on the edge of the mattress and pulled him over to her so that he was bent over her lap, his bottom embarrassingly elevated and very vulnerable to a potential spanking.

"Uh oh..." said Tavros only half jokingly he was slightly curious about this but also if he was going to be completely honest with himself, more than a little bit afraid.

She pulled his pants down along with his underwear, leaving thighs and rump bare. His grey butt-cheeks were already bruised and radiated warmth when she rested a hand on them. He flinched when he felt her hand, as the bruises protested the mild pressure of this gentile, seemingly insignificant touch.

She rose a hand in the air, her regular hand as opposed to the metal one this time, and brought it down on his upturned backside with a sharp _smack_.

"Ouch!" Tavros yelped. She couldn't hit him as hard with her regular hand as she could with her metal one, but it still really hurt because she was smacking him on bruises.

She slapped him several more times, eliciting tiny whimpers of pain with each strike of her hand.

"I'm gonna strub you until your rump glows like a bronze pot over an open flame!" she declared as the Marquis de Spinneret, and before striking him again.

"Ow!" Tavros yelped.

Gamzee licked his lips, peering thru the grate in the ventilation duct. Now this was something he could get into...pain and humiliation. That's what that mother-fucking low blood deserved. Tavros was so pathetically stupid and very possibly, Gamzee believed, more irritating than the rest of the mother-fuckers on this asteroid put together. He needed to be hurt badly, Gamzee decided, much worse than this. He needed to bleed and shriek with mindless agony. This was too mild a torture for that sniveling, worthless traitor...but hell...it was a start, wasn't it?

"Ow! _Ow! Owie!_ _It Hurts!" _whimpered Tavros as Vriska rained down a barrage of blows on his bare bottom. "Ouch! Ow! _Owww!_ Stop it! _Ouch! _Y-you're gonna make me c-cry..._Ow_!"

Vriska ignored this plea and kept hitting him. His rump was just so jutting out and petulant, it was almost asking to be strubbed, and now that she had started smacking him, she didn't think that she could stop. He was probably exaggerating anyway. She was sure that she couldn't possibly have been hurting him that badly.

"Cry all you want," she sneered. "You're not done being punished yet!"

She kept hitting him, and the bruises spread on his backside until the skin there was solidly bronze without even a trace of grey.

"Ow...ow...ow..._ow...ow...owwwww! Waaahh-hah-haaah..."_

Vriska stopped strubbing Tavros abruptly.

"Are you...c_rying_?" she asked him.

Tavros didn't answer her, but sniffled, and inhaled sharply, his shoulders trembling with a succession of pained, child-like sobs.

Vriska looked a little more shocked by this than she probably should have been. Quickly, she pulled his pants back up and unbound his arms.

"Please don't cry. I...I'll get you some ice. It'll be all better," she said, trying to comfort him. "I didn't think that...I mean I didn't mean to...I got a little carried away I guess. I'll get you some ice."

She pushed him off of her lap and sprinted from the room, returning a few moments later with an ice pack, which she placed on his backside.

"Does that feel better?" she asked him pressing the icepack against his bruised skin.

"Now it...h-hurts and uh...feels c-cold," he sobbed.

"Aw, don't…don't cry, Tav...I really wasn't trying to make you cry."

She patted him on the back, and he hitched another deep sob.

"T-that's ok," he sniffled. "I...I forgive you."

Now, Gamzee was starting to get sick to his stomach. Of all the fucked up, insufferably nauseating things he had ever imagined or witnessed, this had to be the absolute, mother-fucking, worst. After all of those years of bullying Tavros and terrorizing him whenever she got the chance, she just suddenly, without any warning at all, decided to start giving a shit about the way that he felt? And he was just _OK_ with that?

He watched as Vriska massaged Tavros shoulders and stroked the back of his head to comfort him. Dark orange-brown tears streaked down his face and he bit his lip, wiping them off on his sleeve in an attempt to staunch their shameful flow. Vriska asked him if he wanted her to help him back into his wheel chair, and he told her that it would hurt too much to sit; that sometimes he lost the feeling in the lower half of his body, and that he wanted to wait until that happened to go back to his wheelchair again. The entire disgusting conversation was making Gamzee wish he hadn't thought to watch them in the first place.

"Want me to kiss it and make it better?" she asked him.

"Uh...No, that's not uhh…necessary," he replied, his voice having at long last, lost its tearful quality.

"Ok, mother-fuckers, just what exactly is this _mother-fucking shit?" _Gamzee shouted from behind the grate. He couldn't help himself, he'd had quite enough of this bullshit, and in the absence of his high he was having trouble seeing it as even the slightest bit miraculous. Mirthful messiahs be damned, this shameless display of shit-fuckery was enough to make even the most fanatical of Juggalos loose their faith in the gods forever.

Fuck.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this sober.

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**Author's note:** Thanks so much for the reviews, international audience :D I hope you are enjoying this awful pornographic story spawned of my current insatiable obsession with Homestuck. I'm trying to write the trolls as in-character as possible so if you have any suggestions about how I should make their behavior or dialogue more cannon, please share them with me. I will post chapter 4 when (or if) I get at least three more reviews.


	4. Chapter 4

**sICK FIRES of iNGRADITUDE**

Vriska's face turned the same shade of denim blue as her cum soaked jeans, and then she screamed like she had just tripped over the edge of a thirty story building, and was now in free fall, fast approaching the pavement below. She then fled the room. _How LONG had he been WATCHING? _

"Heh heh heh HA HA HA HA heh heh..." cackled Gamzee._ "_Fuck the soper, that mother-fuckin' shit was funny as fuck without it."

Tavros lifted himself off of the bed and back into his wheelchair.

"Look Gamzee," he said. "I know you're...uhh...like a free spirit, I guess, but you really shouldn't watch Vriska when she's uhhh...when she's...you know...having sex with me. She doesn't like it."

In Gamzee's opinion, Tavros couldn't have looked more ridiculous, staring him head on, defending Vriska's right to a private sexual encounter like he was some kind of a faltering, wheelchair-bound, macho guy. That self righteous expression alone was enough to make Gamzee want to punch him until all of his teeth fell out.

Instead, Gamzee narrowed his eyes, assuming an incredulous, open-mouthed stare.

"Spare me the crap, Tavros," he said. "You and I both know she's just a mother-fuckin' hoar, bitch for pumpin' out some mother-fuckin' pupas."

"She's more than that to me," said Tavros.

"Heh heh heh ha ha ha ha...bro...you couldn't be more mother-fuckin' stupid."

Tavros, though slightly unnerved by Gamzee's unusual level of coherency, was in no mood to hear anyone say anything about his Vriska.

"...Oh yea, well fuck you too," said Tavros. "I'm in love with her, OK? And I don't care what you or anyone else says about it."

"You can't be serious."

"I am serious."

Gamzee pushed the grate open and jumped down from the vent in the wall, landing gracefully on a pair of long, spindly legs. He was tall and gaunt like a scarecrow with violent yellow eyes and a mop of wild, twisted hair.

"Tell me mother-fucker," he said. "'Cause I really am wonderin'. Were you always this mother-fuckin' dumb, bro? Or was I just always too mother-fucking high to realize it?"

Tavros turned his wheel chair around and began to wheel himself toward the door.

"Aw, 'cmon, Nitram? Don't leave yet! Why you gettin' all up and mother-fuckin' touchy all of a sudden? Let's just make the fuck out like we used to. We can forget all about dumb-ass bitch for awhile and just be fuck buddies like I always planned."

"I'm sorry but I already told you, I like you as a friend but I'm not interested in you in uh...in that way," said Tavros...and besides...uhh...Vriska wouldn't like it."

This last part made Gamzee's right eye twitch involuntarily. He walked over to the front of the wheelchair, put his hands on the arms rests, and stared its occupant strait in the eye. Tavros flinched, Gamzee's painted white face seemed to be melting with droplets of purple sweat, which ran down his neck in grotesque rivulets and stained the black fabric of his shirt collar. The Juggalo opened his fanged mouth to speak, and Tavros' nostrils were over come by the stench of a neglected mouth, gooey with orange faygo and soper pies.

"You act like she's the only troll you'd ever fuck, like you're a mother-fuckin' human or somethin', but let me tell you something you mother-fuckin' dumb-shit weirdo, monogamy doesn't work. Humans can't even do it. It's stupid to even try."

"Uh...wow," replied Tavros nervously. "You're making a lot more sense than usual...but I uh...I guess I'm going to try it anyway. Even if it is stupid."

"So that's it?" asked Gamzee. "That's all. After all the shit you did with her...you won't even give me a little kiss? Fucker you owe me! It was me that sat at your mother-fuckin' bed side after she put your ass in the hospital. Fuck, the only reason you were even in the hospital was because I paid your mother-fuckin' hospital bill. If it wasn't for me they would have thrown your poor, broke low-blood ass out on the street with the other shit-veins to die! I should have let you die too. I don't know why I didn't. 'Must have been 'cause I was too mother-fuckin' high to realize what a dumb-shit loser you were...and that it was in your mother-fuckin' blood to betray me!"

"Gamzee, I'm sorry, I really am, and I uh...I don't want to hurt your feelings...but I'm just not uhh...interested in you in that way. I hope that we can still be friends."

Gamzee's hands slipped off of the arms of Tavros' wheelchair, and Tavros nervously wheeled around the silhouette of his hunched and glowering form. Gamzee heard the door swing open and quickly snap shut behind him as Tavros exited into the hallway, but didn't turn to watch him leave. He just stared at the wall in front of him, grape juice colored tears cutting tracts in his white clown makeup.

_I gave that little mother-fucker a chance to do it the easy way_, he thought bitterly, attempting to smear the face paint in a way that covered the growing grey tracts. _Now he's gonna' have to do it the hard way_..._Mother-fucker, you don't even know what punishment is...I'm about to teach you the meaning of it._

_..._

News of Vriska's and Tavros' Matespritship was met by the other trolls with more than a few raised eyebrows, groans of nauseation, and un-ironic comments about how Tavros must have the Stockholm syndrome. However, they mostly accepted it as one of two potential products of a very obsessive and fucked up relationship, the other and presumably, less favorable, being an impassioned murder/suicide. Thus, their red affection for each other was excepted as an annoying yet strikingly un-shocking fact of life and, for all intensive purposes, became old news within the first hour of being announced.

"Well, I guess, I don't have to be clubs for you guys any more," said Kanaya, applying a coat of emerald green lipstick to her already very painted lips. "Matesprit couples are rarely in danger of murdering each other."

Vriska sat down on Tavros' lap and the seat of his wheelchair sagged under their combined weight. It was making the bruises on his ass sting more, but he ignored this and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin in her hair.

"Ugh..." groaned Karkat, observing their passionate embrace. "There really aught to be a fucking rule against public displays of affection."

"Well, I think its nice," said Feferi, crossing her arms argumentatively as she expressed this unpopular opinion.

Just then, Gamzee burst into the computer room, through the door leading into the network of basement rooms. The other trolls turned to stare at him, and in an instant, twenty yellow eyes fixed on his disheveled yet uncharacteristically furious stance.

"What? What, am I missing? Why did everyone stop talking all of a sudden?" said Terezi from behind opaque red shades. She could smell something faintly purple, but as always, saw nothing but darkness in front of her.

"Where are my mother-fucking drugs, Karkat?" Gamzee shouted, walking over to Karkat and pointing an orange fingernail in his face. "My stash is fucking gone, you stupid, short, nubby-horned, little mother-fucker and I know it was you with all your self-righteous, patronizing, 'I'm the leader', shit! Mother-fucker, I know it was you!"

"I had to do it," said Karkat. "Your addiction was getting worse."

"Fuck you, Karkat, what did you do with my drugs?" Gamzee screamed grabbing Karkat be the front of his shirt collar and shaking him. "Do you know what you've done? Do you have any kind of a mother-fuckin' clue about what you've just done?"

"Now you'll h-have to quit the soper because there isn't anymore," Karkat stuttered, dizzy from Gamzee's violently shaking. His head rocked involuntarily backward and forward as Gamzee pulled him by the front of his shirt.

Karkat pulled back, attempting to free himself, but found that he was not strong enough to break the towering Juggalo's insane grip.

"Where are my fucking drugs, Karkat!" he screamed, letting go of Karkat's shirt and smacking him across the face. The force of the blow knocked Karkat backward into his computer chair, which elicited some terrified babbling from the peanut gallery, that Gamzee purposely tuned out. Kanaya screamed something about how he was out of control and tried to pull him away from Karkat, but her tiny female hands were too weak and very easy for Gamzee to ignore all together.

"You don't need the drugs!" shouted Karkat, clutching the darkening red mark on his grey cheek. "Look at what they've done to you!"

"Karkat, where are my fucking drugs!" screamed Gamzee, backhanding Karkat across the face.

Karkat didn't answer this time, but stared determinately back at him, refusing to dignify the question with even a token response. So Gamzee punched him in the face, then punched him again in the mouth before even giving him a chance to answer. The shouting of the bystanders in the background was a world away. Sullux's furious swearing, Feferi's shriek of distress, Nepeta's loud sobbing, it seemed to dissolve around him, an insignificant flurry of bullshit that was little more than an irritating distraction from his pursuit of the drugs.

Karkat, collapsed into his spinning computer chair, clutching a black eye, and dribbling candy-red blood from his quivering mouth.

"I...I flushed it down the loadgapper," he stuttered, sounding very close to tears.

Gamzee turned and strode from the room, in hot pursuit of the loadgappers. He was determined to get his drugs back one way or another even if it meant disassembling the plumbing. Karkat's idiotic blubbering faded to silence in the background as he exited the computer room and strode into the hallway.

The desire for satisfaction was burning his veins, consuming him in sick fire.

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Thank you so much for the reviews, guys. I am going on vacation soon, so to kill some time lets say that I will update this story when (or if) I get at least ten more reviews. I should have time for an update sometime next week but until then here are some cool songs for you to look for that go really well with this story. Let me know if you think of any more.

Love Me Dead (acoustic version) by Ludo

Bent by Matchbox Twenty

Diemuthafuckadie! by DJ Clay and R.O.C.

She Hates Me by Puddle of Mudd


	5. Chapter 5

Hello readers :D I have returned with a new update as well as a promise to post new chapters at least once a week (as long as people continue to express an interest in this). On the weeks when I am unable to post updates I will try to make up for it by posting longer updates later. In return I ask that you leave longer reviews, as I am an extremely bored and needy egomaniac. I have decided to use one of the suggestions I got and include a Nepeta/Karkat side plot (more so in later chapters), as it fits rather well with the parts of the story that I already had planned. Anyway, this chapter sets the stage for the chapter you've all been expecting. I hope you enjoy it.

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**Prelude to DiScOrD and RED Infidelity ;3**

Vriska had always been more inclined toward black relationships than red ones. This seemed the natural product of her dominant, sadistic personality, as indeed the promise of vengeance and spite, of a battle of wills, of the totally moralized justification for war, had always been a prospect too seductive for her to resist. Her first kissmasis crush had been a blue-blooded law student that used to live near her hive. That was before her hive was incinerated in the catastrophic meteor shock wave that destroyed the whole of Alternia, and before the boy was accidentally murdered by her in a fit of sadistic rage. She had thrown a rock at his head and crushed his skull, before throwing his broken, bloody body to her spider to be devoured.

Her next kissmasis crush had been Eridan Ampora, the spoiled and bigoted royal blooded jack-ass, who was planning to use his future position of power to rain down terror on the lower blood casts. He once commissioned her to build him a doomsday machine, a massive, tank-like air ship, from which he could hover over residential areas and shoot pedestrians for sport. However, that was before Eridan became obsessed with Feferi and Vriska met Tavros in a live action role playing campaign. The doomsday device was never completed and Vriska and Eridan's black rom relationship dissolved into platonic annoyance with one and other.

As much as she had hated Eridan for being a violent, selfish, maniacal, sociopath, with a narcissistic sense of entitlement and no respect for troll life what so ever, she had hated Tavros more for not being this way. Tavros was a naive self deprecating geek, who believed in fairies despite their regrettable fakeness attribute, and literally couldn't role play battle to save his life.

She had hand selected him to be her opponent in a game of live action role playing based solely on his powerful appearance and massive horns, yet found herself immediately confronted by his infuriatingly disappointing lack of social finesse.

Those giant horns on his head were a deception, she had decided, because Tavros...was hardly a troll at all. She saw his unusual shyness an insult to their gloriously savage and brutal race, and hated him for it, more so than she had ever hated any other troll, including Eridan and the boy she had murdered with a rock. She hated him because he was always nice to her no matter how cruel she was to him, because he was timid and easy to terrorize, because he was spineless and desperate for her approval, but most importantly, because he was the first boy to ever cry when she bullied him instead of just bullying her back.

It was this attribute more than anything else that sparked her erotic interest in him.

Her black feelings for him were different and decidedly more satisfying than the ones that she had entertained in the past for other trolls, and they filled her with a savage, insatiable desire that she suspected could only have been quenched by his suffering at her hands. She had sought him out regularly, taunted him, tripped him, and put tacks in his chair before he sat down; always for the perverse pleasure of crushing his spirit and making him cry. It became a game for her, and later, an obsession. She ignored him when he really needed her attention, took things from him without really asking his permission, and laughed derisively at everything he said, as though it were perhaps the stupidest thing she had ever heard in her entire life, all the while coming to an increasingly in-dismissible conclusion. Her black feelings for him, slowly and without her consent...were turning to red.

The realization, of course, had infuriated her. Having a kissmasis crush on Tavros was one thing...but a _matesprit_ crush? Well, that was quite another. She couldn't have a matespirt crush on Tavros. She just wouldn't. He was weak and feeling pity for him would just make her every bit as weak as he was in the eyes of society. She decided that she'd rather kill him than to allow herself to feel this way.

So she had lured him out on the rp field to a cliff overlooking a deep cavern, and deliberately shoved him over the edge. It was a beautiful plan, a perfect one, really. She needed more spider food and he needed to stop making her love him so much. So really everyone had something to gain from this arrangement...but Tavros...Tavros had be his infuriating self and go and ruin it by surviving.

Vriska thought about this long and boring story for awhile, and considered telling it to Tavros, even though he already knew most of it. Maybe, she thought, it would make him understand why she made him a paraplegic, and more importantly, why she would never try to do something like that again...but then again, this was probably not a very good idea. It was deeply entrenched in the troll culture to forgive travesties like this with only an unspoken apology, and she had given him that by allowing herself to display pity for him.

_This was enough_, she thought, as she inched closer to him and embraced his upper body in a display of gratuitous public affection that she would have previously though unthinkable. She felt his arms wrap around her protectively, and his grey chin dip down to rest in her black hair. _He understands._

Gamzee's withdraw induced meltdown had left the computer room in a state of discord, and all around her, Vriska could here trolls screaming and arguing amongst each other. Some expressed their extreme emotional distress, like Nepeta who was currently sobbing and hugging the bloody and battered Karkat to her chest. His red tears and leaking injuries left spreading crimson stains on the shoulder of her green jacket. Others attempted to decide what should be done about it, like Sullux who immediately argued that Gamzee should be killed before he was aloud to become any crazier, and Feferi who favored the idea of imprisoning him for the rest of his natural life. Aradia suggested finding a substitute for the drug that could be used to suppress Gamzee's violent urges.

Equius argued that it was Gamzee's divine right as a purple blood to rampage all he wanted and advocated staying out of his business. Eridan and Terezi seconded this motion as they had adopted an official policy of not giving a fuck what was done about Gamzee one way or the other. They mostly ignored the conversation and instead played a stupid human game called tiddlywinks in the middle of the floor. It was a game that had something to do with getting colored plastic circles into a plastic barrel, and both of them cheated at it. Their trollish indifference proved infectious and was soon adopted by most of the rest of the trolls in the room, who gradually ceased their heated debate and joined in on the game of tiddlywinks. Even Karkat eventually adopted this "everything will work its way out by its self in the end" mentality_, _pushed Nepeta off of him and resumed his previous activities on the computer as though nothing had ever happened.

"He needs to be locked up before he gets worse," said Feferi, attempting to flick one of her purple tiddlywinks into the small red plastic barrel.

Her attempt at restarting this conversation was half hearted at best and met with a barrage of groans from the peanut gallery.

"Ughh..."

"Shuddup"

"...Buzz kill."

"Now wait a second, wait just a grub-fucking second, you dumb-asses are just going to ignore this whole thing?" said Kanaya rising from the floor and throwing her tiddlywinks to the ground in disgust.

As a way of answering this, the other trolls ignored this question all together.

Kanaya, turned to Vriska, who was still sitting on Tavros' lap. The two of them had their arms wrapped around each other, and were staring into each other's eyes; grinning at like insane morons; oblivious to the world.

"Vriska," Kanaya said.

Vriska, wiped her blue lipstick off on her sleeve, and locked lips with Tavros, initiating a passionate make out.

"Vriska..._Vriska!_" shouted Kanaya again, getting annoyed. "Could you dislodge yourself from Tavros for two seconds and try to talk some sense into these idiots for me?"

"Mpphhh...Don't give a shit," Vriska said, breaking the kiss with Tavros momentarily before quickly resuming it.

"Tavros?"

"...Idon'tcareeither," was Tavros' gargled reply through a mouth full of Vriska's tongue.

Kanaya sighed in frustration and resumed the game of tiddlywinks.

_..._

For Gamzee Makara, the Dark Carnival had only just begun. There was no soper left on the asteroid, now. Karkat had made sure of that.

There was no Soper left on the asteroid...no soper left _anywhere_...and Gamzee's veins burned for it. His brain reeled in its absence and screamed for satisfaction, for the sweet, southing pleasure, that, in the absence of soper, he knew only sadism could provide.

He knew now that his perverse fantasies would have to be satisfied. It was hopeless to fight it.

He returned to his room and locked the door behind him, then emptied the contents of his dresser drawers on to the ground. A set of three weighted juggling batons hit the stone floor in with a sudden and startling series of _thud_s, followed by several bottles of orange faygo, which smacked against the fallen batons and rolled off into the corners of the room. One bottle came to rest at the edge of a pile of silver tipped clown horns, the kind that make annoying noises when you squeeze them. Another bottle hit a cardboard box, with the words: MuThA-FuCKIn MIriCLEs, written across the front of it in waxy purple clown-makeup. Gamzee walked over to the box and looked inside of it.

"Heh heh heh... Subjugulators are the shit, mother-fucker," he snickered, removing a small, curved blade from the card board box, and holding it in one shaking hand as though ready to strike with it. He grinned, remembering this box, and wondering how Karkat managed to over look it. Must have been a miracle, a message from the mirthful messiahs to go through with his plan.

The box contained a collection of historical Subjugulator weapons and torture devices that he'd gathered a long time ago when he was much younger and still interested in his high-blood heritage. He'd lost interest in this stuff after he'd became a stoner, though for the life of him, he couldn't remember why.

He dumped the contents of the box onto the floor in front of him. The metal objects inside clanked against the stone floor as they hit the ground. This was some seriously intense shit. Knives, pins, flails, keys, locks and harnesses, all masterfully crafted instruments created for the sole purpose of inflicting pain and humiliation on enemies of the Alternian empire. He wasn't even entirely sure what some of the stuff did, though he could certainly have imagined some uses for it. Just thinking about how he might discover these objects' intended purposes was starting to give him a little bit of a boner.

He picked up a tiny device made of a dark silver metal. It was a pair of jagged tongs spiked with tiny syringes the intended purpose of which was an intriguing mystery. He put the ominous device down, and picked up a box of thick metal pins. These were horn chippers, meant to be driven below the enamel of a troll's horns into the interior blood vesicles, thereby impeding many varieties of magical troll abilities while at the same time causing intense agony. He put the box of horn chippers down and picked up a pair of brass knuckles before deciding that they were a bit boring and putting them back down. He selected instead a flail with twelve leather straps, each knotted at the end and tied off with a sharp piece of rusty metal. This was a proper instrument of discipline, he thought. Though perhaps less sinister than some of the other devices that he had managed to collect over the years, it was still his favorite piece; supposedly a replica of the flail used to inflict a brutal whipping on the Sufferer before his public execution.

He put the flail to the side and perused a variety of gags. Some of them were simple ball gags, other's were lined with spikes or needles or intended to be locked in with curved blades. Some were intended to stretch the wearer's mouth causing discomfort or in some cases the intense pain. A few were equipped with clear tubes for force-feeding, or were hollow and meant to be filled with searing hot embers prior to insertion into the mouth. Gamzee grinned, examining the variety of torture inflicting gags. No one knew quite as well as a Subjugulator how to shut someone up in style.

Gamzee gathered the gags and tossed them unceremoniously back in the box along with a cruel tangle of mysterious tubes and harnesses that Gamzee didn't quite understand the purpose of. He found some branding irons, each meant to inflict a burn upon the accused along with a permanent shameful symbol of their treachery.

"Ssshhttthhhh..." Gamzee hissed grinning evilly as he held the branding iron out in front of him, and attempted to simulate the sound of heated metal on searing flesh. "Mother-fucker, I burn your ass. Your burnt ass belongs to me...you burnt assed mother-fucker."

He imagined the sound of Tavros' muffed tear-choked screams through one of the spiked gags. Then laughed as though it were the funniest thing he had ever imagined, cackling manically as he twisted the cap off of one of the fallen bottles of faygo and was sprayed in the face by its addled contents.

This was going to be one_ hell_ of a dark carnival.

* * *

The next chapter will be posted at some point in the future when I have time to write and "edit" it. I will try to update this on Saturday or Sunday, though I sometimes have a lot of work to do so I can't really promise anything. Assuming I get a least five reviews and they're all at least more than two sentences long, however, I will definitely be posting the next chapter and definitely the first time I get the chance. By this point I'm sure your aware that I possess the ability to write some really, really disturbing shit. So, I'm going to ask your opinion. On a scale of 1 to 10 how depraved should the torture scene get before Tavros gets rescued...1 being extremely mild and 10 being as outrageously, obscenely perverted as I can possibly imagine. Also, more specific suggestions will be considered :0


	6. Chapter 6

I apologize for the delay. I know that I have promised that this chapter would contain the Tavros/Gamzee scene, but I'm very busy and haven't had as much to time to work on it as I would have liked. **It is, however, very close to completion and should be ready to post sometime after Wednesday next week.** In order to maintain the quality that you have come to expect, I have decided to post the first half of that chapter now, containing all of the plot related information that leads up to the Tavros/Gamzee scene. This will give you something to read while I finish and edit the other half of the chapter.

I have also tabulated the various audience requests for pervertedness level of the chapter that what will eventually be called "DaRk CaRnIVaL (Part 2)". If you gave me more than one number I used the higher one.

10+2+10+3+7+10+5+10= 57/8= **7.125 (****If you have an issue with this now's your chance to complain.)**

* * *

**DaRk CaRnIVaL **

**(Part I)**

"Oh...come on, Equius...pleeeassse?"

"No," replied Equius irritatedly. He had been sitting at the edge of a weight lifting bench with a an energy drink in one hand and a small white hand towel in the other; glaring at Vriska and her incredible inability to comprehend how much he couldn't stand her.

"Well why the hell not?" she snapped, abandoning her previously hyper-feminine attempts at flirtatiously manipulative banter. She wasn't used to this sort of staunch refusal to give into her demands.

Equius took a swig of the energy drink, and wiped the dark blue droplets of sweat gathering on his moist forehead with the hand towel.

"I see no reason why I should care about you or your self-esteem-challenged boyfriend," He said.

Vriska's intact eye, moved from Equius to one of the large, gold-framed paintings hanging behind him. This massive portrait portrayed several muscular, horse-like monsters with long, erect shafts playing cards. There were six of them, all in anthropomorphic poses, and sitting in wooden chairs which lined a round, green-topped card-playing table.

"I understand why you'd want to spite me," said Vriska, her eye involuntarily tracing the implied lines running from the edge of one of the muscular beast's erect shafts to the queen of spades card that lay face up on the round green table. "I'm a perfectly hate-ible bitch. I'll be the first one to admit it...but Tavros. Tavros is so sweet. And he's never done anything to you. So why take it out on Tavros just because you have a grudge against me?"

"Nepeta won't talk to me because of you," said Equius. "...I see her mackin' on Karkat all the time...with her nasty toilet mouth. She's been that way with him since Gamzee beat him up and since _you_ told her about the loadgapper incident."

Vriska raised an eyebrow quizzically and, with difficulty, removed her gaze from the penis-centric painting that hung behind his head. He glared at her hatefully, finished the energy drink, and tossed the can into a near by waste paper basket.

"Yes, fine, whatever. I can't be trusted, this you and I both know," said Vriska. "But it was your brilliant idea to share this information with me in the first place so really it's your own fault. But seriously Equius, it really sucks that you're making _Tavros_ suffer for your incredible stupidity. Just fix his legs for me. I know that you can."

Equius stood up and tossed his sweat soaked towel across the room in disgust.

"If I am as incredibly stupid as you claim I am than how is it that _I_ possess the ability to rebuild Tavros' legs and_ you_ do not," he said.

"Wow, did I say that you were stupid, forget that. I meant that you are so, sooo smart. Way smarter than any of the dumb-asses on this dumb asteroid. I mean, with the exception of you and I, we trolls collective put the dumb-ass in dumb-asteroid. Not that I'm hating on the dumb-asses or anything. I mean, without them, this would just be a _teriod_...and that's not good at all. I don't even know what that is."

"Vriska, You're word play humor is stupid and terrible as always," said Equius. "But it hardly matters. The fact remains that you have stolen Nepeta from me, and forgive my language but your shit-blooded, masochist boyfriend, will be a paraplegic forever. From this point on until the end of your life, I want you look at him in that wheel chair every day and be reminded of how much smarter and better I am than you...and...that _I_ am a brilliant engineer were as _you_, forgive my language, are a comparatively shitty one."

Vriska's expression shifted slowly from playfully seductive to furious, as Equius' hateful rant drew to a close.

"I studied a different branch of engineering than you, you insufferable, pretentious fuck!"

On Alternia, Equius and Vriska had both studied engineering. It was their right as blue blood trolls to do this as engineering (and to a lesser extent, law) had been the traditional high status professions awarded to their privileged blood rank. Vriska, who had always been very war-like in her demeanor and dreamed of being the captain of a space pirate ship, had chosen to study weapons construction and vehicle repair. Equius, who was more interested in the inner workings of the troll anatomy, chose to study droid construction and prosthetics.

"I've said everything I wanted to," said Equius. "Now, get out."

"Fuck you, Equius. Fuck you and all of your dick-monster painting, right up your sweaty, tight blue seed-flap, you fucking, bigoted, zealot snob! Tavros never did anything to you! You just hate him because he's a bronze blood!"

"Shriek and curse at me all you want, but there's nothing you can do or say that will make me change my mind. And don't think you can guilt me into doing it with your 'Tavros is sweet and nice' malarkey. I have no sympathy at all for any one who validates your incredible narcissism the way that he does. So really, him being a bronze blood has nothing to do with this decision...what I can't stand about him is that he likes you."

Vriska screamed and kicked over a rack of running weights with one of her red, flame embroidered boots. Then, ignoring the pain in her toes, shrieked: "Fuck you, Equius, for the life of me, now. I can't understand why Nepeta could fucking stand you in the first place!" Before exiting Equius' gym quickly, and slamming the door behind her.

...

Vriska found Tavros in one of the hallways leading to the lower levels of the compound. His he grinned at her, revealing two sharp rows of pointed teeth, then waved enthusiastically, and wheeled himself toward her. She walked up to his wheel chair, smiling back.

"You are pretty...like stuff that is uh...," he paused trying to think of something pretty that he could compare Vriska to.

She leaned over his wheelchair and kissed him on the cheek. His goofy fanged grin broadened and he blushed, wiping away the blue lipstick mark she had left on his face.

"Like stuff that is uhh...p-pretty...I guess," he finished awkwardly.

"Aww...its so adorable how you can't string a sentence together," Vriska said.

Tavros laughed.

"Wow, that was almost a complement, sorta," he said.

It had been two and a half long sweeps since the trolls' scratched S-burg session had landed them on the asteroid. They had all been kids then, yet with the inevitable progression of time, they had grown older eventually maturing into a band of powerful, menacing adult trolls, the likes of which had once been the scourge of the entire universe. The whole thing had happened so gradually that Vriska had barely noticed it. Everyone had gotten so complacent, so rapped up in their internet-based pursuits, so busy decorating this abysmal, desolate underground catacomb of rooms, and stacking cans of protein cylinders until their once cunning Alternian brains dissolved into mush. She realized now that in many ways, Tavros had been her closest and most reliable companion though all of that, even though at the time she had considered him more of a lackey than a friend, and certainly not a troll worthy of her red affections.

He reached out and grasped one of her hands in his.

"Your hand is pretty...like a pretty hand," he said, gazing at her very ordinary gray hand as though it were wad of hundred dollar bills.

Looking at him now, Vriska couldn't help but notice the way he had grown. In a sense, her affection for him had once blinded her to the changes in his body. So he got a little taller, a little more muscular; his voice got deeper; he started shaving; he got taller again; his shoulders got wider; he start working out; he grew a goatee; she got pissed off by the goatee and ordered him to shave it; he did; he got a little more muscular; he mail ordered a crate load of axe body spray and doused himself with it because he thought it would make girls jump on him like in the commercial; his shoulders got wider again, _so what_. He was still just _Tavros_. The same Tavros she'd known for years. Never mind that he was starting to resemble their brutal, long dead, warrior ancestors, pictured in history books as high relief wood print carvings, incinerating once great nations and crushing the skulls of the innocent beneath the cloven hooves of their armored riding beasts. To varying extents, all of her friends were beginning to resemble these people, herself included. Yet, she seemed especially reluctant to notice these changes in Tavros and by the time she had allowed herself to notice them, she discovered that Tavros was no longer the timid and socially awkward teenage boy frozen like a black and white photograph at the back of her mind. Gradually and with out her really noticing it...he had grown into a timid and socially awkward young man, so ironically unlike the vicious Alternian war lords that he resembled. She loved him so much she couldn't stand it.

By the Dark Gods, how she lamented having maimed him.

"Let go of my hand, Tavros."

_Don't think you can guilt me into doing it with your 'Tavros is sweet and nice' malarkey. I have no sympathy at all for any one who validates your incredible narcissism the way that he does. So really, him being a bronze blood has nothing to do with this decision...what I can't stand about him is that he likes you._

Tavros loosened his grip on Vriska's hand and she wrenched it away. She had to break up with him. It was going to kill her but she had to do it. Making him hate her was the only way that she could convince Equius to operate on his legs, and after everything he had done for her, she really did feel as though she owed Tavros this one unselfish act.

"Oh...sorry," said Tavros. "It's just that I had a present for you. It's a piece of jewelry that you put on your hand and then I was going to put it on your hand without you noticing it and surprise you. Though uh...though I suppose it's not much a surprise now... since I just told you," he said.

Vriska glared at him.

"...Wait...what kind of fucking shit are you talking about, now?"

"I thought you might like it...but uh...if you don't like it I guess I could get you something else. Do you want to see it?"

"...You know, Tavros..." began Vriska, sneering as she took a step backward from his wheelchair in a very convincing display of disgust. "...Tricking you into thinking that I like you was super funny at first...but its starting to getting old now."

"Uhh...what?" inquired Tavros timidly, looking confused.

"Ugh, You're just so fucking pathetic that it's sad," said Vriska. "Do I really have to spell it out for you? I don't really like you. I tricked you. I've been laughing at you this whole time."

Tavros stared at her like she was a pile of dead puppies, and then muddy bronze-colored tears started to well up in the corners of his eyes. He looked down, and bit his lower lip to stop it from trembling, hitching a deep, involuntary sob.

"And It was really fucking funny at first, but now its just boring," said Vriska so I guess the joke's over because if I have to spend one more second with your stupid annoying self I think I'm gonna' scream, you dumb, gullible, dumb-ass, fucking idiot."

"V...Vriska..." Tavros stuttered.

"I hate you. Go kill yourself."

Tavros turned his wheel chair around and began to wheel himself away from her.

"...Fine, whatever, leave me! I don't care! Who f-fucking needs _you_ anyway!"

"Yea, that's right, why don't you cry like a pupa some more, toreodumb-shit!" Vriska shrieked after him.

"I...I don't deserve to be treated this way!" he shouted back, just before reaching the door at the end of the hallway and slamming it behind him.

After that Vriska went back to her room and cried for the first time in years. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried that hard very clearly, but if she had to guess she would have said that it was when she was about two sweeps old, right after she slit the throat of her first victim to satisfy the cravings of her dying lusus. She did deep breathing exercises to calm herself, managing to wipe the navy-blue streaks from her face just moments before Nepeta burst through the door, pirouetted in front of her and announced in a loud annoying voice that she was "preggers."

_Round and round the idiot goes. Who's the father. Nobody knows,_ Vriska thought, bitterly. She remembered vaguely that "preggers" had something to do with sex and making pupas though she was a little fuzzy on the details.

"Nepeta, I don't know what that word means and I'd like to keep it that way," said Vriska.

Nepeta mistook Vriska's sarcasm as an invitation to elaborate.

"Remember that Sollux told everyone that if we all had sex without the buckets, we'd make new pupas and not be an endangered species anymore?"

"Yea, but its really stupid and I don't think anyone really, genuinely, wholeheartedly believed him other than you," said Vriska.

"Well, you're wrong, Vriska, preggers is the real deal, and my be-preggeredsness is a _cat_astrophic important huge thing, which is why I'm telling everyone, regardless as to whether or not they believe me."

Nepeta rubbed her belly, and smiled at her like she was making some sort of a huge, important point.

"My pupa is the cat's meow, and I expect everyone to buy me a present when it gets here, even you. So don't forget!" she chirped happily before skipping out of the room.

Vriska walked over to her recuperacoon and slammed her head against the side of it, clawing at her hair. Blue streaks ran down her face again and she wiped them off on her sleeve.


	7. Chapter 7

OMG rape and torture :P

**Ok, so I should probably warn you that...THIS CHAPTER IS EXTREMELY VIOLENT and PERVERTED. If you are not OK with this than you can skip this chapter and resume reading when the next update comes. As far as the plot is concerned it is sufficient to know that he was tortured. **

Also, reviewer requests to just get it over with and artlessly blurt out who had sex with who (well mostly and sort of) will be fulfilled in the next chapter, as this one is already far too long.

* * *

**DaRk CaRnIVaL**

**(Part II)**

"Hey..._hey! _What's a matter, Tav-bro? Why you all mother-fuckin' sad an' shit?"

Tavros looked up and saw Gamzee standing just a few inches in front of his wheelchair, staring down at him with a look of concern on his face. Gamzee looked less disheveled, Tavros decided, he seemed more coherent and the crazy look had gone from his eyes.

Tavros sniffled and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"I'll be fine," he said, making an effort to sound fine, despite the fact that his stuffy nose distorted his voice, making it obvious that he'd been crying. "I'll be much better off without her."

"Hey man, what happened?...Don't let Bitchka get ya' down." said Gamzee, opening a bottle of faygo and knocking back against his lips. He tilted his head backward and the nasty orange liquid fizzed as he gulped it down.

"Oh...you know," said Tavros. "Same shit different day. I asked her to marry me and she asked me to kill myself."

"So she broke up with you. Is that it?" said Gamzee.

"Yea," said Tavros.

"Its probably because you're always talkin' about that dumb human shit, like that which-ma-calit thing you just said. Man, I would'a broken up with you too."

"Really?"

"Heh...no."

"I'll be honest with you, Gamzee. I could really use someone to talk to right now, and we were always such good friends when we were kids...uhh...I mean before you got too fucked up on the sopor, and had your...uhhh... schizophrenic episode. I was thinking, since you're getting to be sober again now, maybe things could just go back to the way they were then," said Tavros.

"So does this mean we're friends again?" asked Gamzee.

"Yea, I guess it does," said Tavros.

"I'd say we should get high, but Karkat trashed my stash. Sooo...let's talk about this mother-fucker," said Gamzee taking another swig of the orange faygo.

He emptied the contents of the bottle and then tossed the clear plastic container on to the ground. It made a hollow noise as it hit the pavement then rolled away into a showy corner of the hallway.

"Uh...Jegus...I don't know. Where do I begin?" said Tavros.

Ganzee walked behind Tavros' wheelchair and started pushing it.

"Vriska's super mean to me all the time...but...uhh...but for some reason I still really like her a lot," continued Tavros. "It would probably be better for me if I didn't like her...or if maybe I didn't like her so much...but I just do...and I can't help liking her...even if she doesn't like me very much at all. I don't even blame her that much...uhhh...man...she just...she just should be with someone a lot better than me. So really if she was mean to me...really I just kind of uh...I don't know...deserved it for not being that great...and really I didn't hold it against her because that's just the way she is when she's dealing with lame people like me."

"Uh huh," said Gamzee as he continued to push Tavros' wheelchair.

"She's just cool...ya' know." said Tavros. "She's just like this radical cool dame who doesn't give a shit about anything, is a funny and awesome warrior, and knows how to build things. Did you know she knows how to build things? She's way smarter than me, man, I can't build things."

"You'd know how to build things if you had gone to school for it," said Gamzee, still pushing the wheelchair.

"Naw...I'm probably too dumb 'cause I'm a bronze blood. Blue bloods are way smarter than bronze bloods uhh...which is why they go to school I guess," said Tavros.

"You've got it backwards," said Gamzee, turning Tavros' chair around a corner and continuing to push him down the shadowy corridor "...You mother-fuckin' dumb-ass."

"Huh?"

"High bloods don't go to school because they're mother-fuckin' smart. They're smart because they mother-fuckin' go to-_ugghh..._never mind...just fucking never mind. You actually are an idiot, so probably you're right anyway...Fuck this conversation! Fuck this conversation backwards, forwards, sideways and upsidedown!"

Gamzee stopped pushing Tavros' wheelchair and walked around to the front of it, bracing himself on the armrests as he leaned forward, glaring hatefully into Tavro's bloodshot yellow eyes.

"You know what I can't fucking stand about you," snarled Gamzee. "You bitch and wine and cry about every little mother-fuckin' thing! Oh look at me! I'm a loser! I'm a cripple! I'm a shit blood! I'm stupid! Nobody likes me! Poor, poor, pitiful fucking me! You act like you're the only person in the whole mother-fucking world whose ever had a mother-fucking problem! And Bitchka...don't get me started about Bitchka!"

Tavros' eyes narrowed, and his black eyebrows grew taunt with building rage as his grey hands tightened into fists.

"Gamzee, I'm gonna' warn you _once_ to get the _fuck_ out of my face," said Tavros.

Gamzee ignored the threat and continued to scream.

"Bitchka used my freakish horns as a coat-rack last week told me to sit really, really still so that the coats wouldn't fall off! So I did! For _eight hours_! Bitchka kicked me in the ass yesterday, but that's ok because I guess I deserved it! Isn't Bitchka just great! Isn't she cool! Isn't she fucking beautiful! Oh Bitchka, my beautiful, smart, amazing fucking Bitchka!...Bitchka this! Bitchka that! Bitchka! Bitchka! Bitchk-"

Tavros punched Gamzee in the face, and his hands slipped from the armrests of Tavros' wheelchair as his head was knocked backward by the force of the blow. He stumbled backward, clutching his bruised jaw. Then turned his head to the side and spat purple blood and broken fangs from his battered, dripping mouth.

"I warned you," muttered Tavros, quietly.

"Mother-fucker you're gonna pay for that!" Gamzee screamed.

He charged at Tavros' wheel chair, knocking it backward with the force of his towering body. The back of Tavros' head hit the ground and he grimaced, attempting to roll out from underneath of the Juggalo's crushing weight.

Gamzee put his hands on either side of Tavros' flailing body and with some difficulty managed to restrain his arms.

"Get the fuck off of me!" Tavros yelled, turning his head away from Gamzee's bloody, dripping face.

"Heh-heh-heh-heh...Didn't think you had it in you, Tavy...You're hot when you're angry," crooned Gamzee mockingly.

Tavros head butted him and he was knocked backward again, his fingers momentarily loosening their grip on his Tavros' wrists. Tavros rolled sideways, and began dragging himself along the hallway, the paralyzed lower half of his body trailing behind him like something inanimate.

"..._Help_! Somebody _help me!"_

_"_Heh-heh-heh-hah-HA HA HAH-heh heh...I can walk faster than you can craw, wheelchair-boy," Gamzee said, strolling along behind him at a mockingly casual pace.

Gamzee ran his tongue along the empty, bloody holes where the teeth on the right side of his mouth had once been, very confident that Tavro's cries for help would go unheard. Tavros had unwittingly allowed himself to be wheeled to one of the distant corridors of the underground labyrinth, and no one _ever_ went this far down- _ever_. They were all too afraid to get lost, too stupid to successfully navigate the complicated network of corridors, hallways, vents and pipes the way that Gamzee did on a regular basis.

Gamzee rolled one of his sleeves back, revealing a small syringe filled with red fluid taped to the inside of his wrist. He grinned, removing syringe from the tape and holding it out in front of him, then, knelt down and grabbed the waist band of Tavros' grey jeans.

"No! Get off!"

Gamzee, yanked Tavros' pants down and jabbed the needle into one of his butt cheeks, compressing the plunger to release the ominous red substance into his blood stream. Tavros' vision blurred and he went limp.

The world became a spinning nauseous blur, Gamzee's taunts and amorous giggling a muddled incoherent slur of indecipherable noise. Tavros felt himself be undressed, then picked up and dumped back in the wheelchair. He heard the spoke of the wheels turning on their axils, the sound of spinning rubber scraping against the increasingly uneven cement floor. Gamzee was taking him deeper into the labyrinth and he was limp and inebriated, powerless to stop it. He closed his eyes and moaned, feeling as though he were about to throw up.

"...my head h-hurts...owww...I feel all d-di-dizzy... ." Tavros moaned, his voice sounded very slurred and distorted, so eerily different from the way that he imagined it in his head.

Gamzee wheeled him into a small room at the end of one of the corridors and then locked the door behind him. Tavros heard the metallic clink of its rusty hinge, oddly magnified by his altered state. Then felt his face hit the pavement as Gamzee kicked his wheelchair over, knocking him back onto the floor. Tavros fought to keep his eyes open but the tranquilizing effect of the drug was too powerful and he drifted into a deep, uneasy sleep.

"Sweet dreams, Tav pupa," Gamzee cackled. "When you wake up we're gonna' have some mother-fucking fun...heh, heh, heh...well I'm gonna' have some mother-fuckin' fun... it won't be any fun at all for _you_...because I'm gonna' make it _hurt_. Gonna' make you hurt like I hurt mother-fucker..."

He walked up to Tavro's inert body, which lay sprawled out on the floor, naked and face down.

"You and your fucking goobery ways, always ignorin' me all the time, and mother-fucking avoidin' me whenever you meet a girl that treats you like a dip-shit loser," Gamzee said, Grabbing Tavros by one of his ankles and dragging him to the harness that he had set up in one of the corners of the room. It hung from a number of long metal chains that Gamzee had attached to the network of crooked pipes that ran along the ceiling.

"You were always such a shitty friend. I was just too mother-fuckin' high back then to realize it."

He lifted Tavros' body onto a metal plate built to support his stomach and chest, locking the four thick chains that hung from the side of it around his back to secure him in place. Then he secured his wrists with a pair of metal handcuffs that hung from the ceiling, so that his arms were forced strait out in front of him.

"...Can't have you knockin' the rest of my teeth out, can I?" Gamzee muttered as he fastened Tavros further in place with a neck shackle, and a pair of horn shackles which he snapped closed and locked around the base of each of Tavros' large horns. Each of these restrictive devices were intended to be used alongside the harness in order to restrain the victim while at the same time providing further support as they hung from the ceiling. He grabbed a pair of ankle bracelets that were dead bolted to the floor and secured them around Tavros' ankles, though this particular restraint was, in this case, unnecessary, since Tavros couldn't kick him if he wanted to.

Gamzee stepped back and admired his work. Tavros lay tranquilized and unresponsive, as he dangled from the ceiling, forced into an embarrassing position by the historical torture restraint. Gamzee walked up to him, giggling maniacally as he observed this hard earned victim with hungry, violent eyes. This was Tavros bent over with his arms pulled strait out in front of him, his legs pulled strait down underneath of him, and his dangling toes swaying slightly, just inches from the cement floor. It was the same Tavros that had followed him around when he was a kid talking about Fiduspawn and twelve-sided dies; there was no disputing that. But this was also a handsome troll at the peak of his physical prowess, about twenty years old by the human system of measurement, and completely vulnerable to whatever torture he wished to inflict...a fitting sacrifice to the Mirthful Messiahs.

Gamzee put his hand on Tavros and touched him on the shoulder for the first time in years. His bare skin was smooth and Gamzee moved his hands greedily along the contours of his muscular back to the swell of his chubby, bruised buttocks and let his hand linger there. They were still warm from Tavros' previous spanking.

"Honk," Gamzee said giving Tavros' ass a squeeze.

Tavros moaned in his sleep and unconsciously attempted to shift on to his side, but the chains restricted his movement. Gamzee moved his hand down to Tavros' thighs to his caves, ankles, heals and toes, fascinated by every detail of this body that was his to brutalize.

"Yup, he's definitely got two balls..." Gamzee said, sticking his hands underneath of Tavros to fondle his genitals.

Tavros slept for four hours before the sedative began to wear off. Then his eyes opened slowly and the room came into focus. Gradually, Tavros began to remember where he was and what had just happened. He whimpered and tried to rub his aching head but found that his wrists were bound and it was impossible for him to do this. He felt metal chains against the bare skin of his upper body and whimpered again when he realizing the he must have been bound.

"_H...Help!_" he screamed, sounding extremely pathetic as he trashed against the metal restrains, attempting desperately to free himself. "Somebody help me! Help! Heellllp! Oh no...oh no… Oh shit! Oh jegus! Help! Mphhh!"

Gamzee clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Shut your mouth, you're giving me a mother-fucking headache," said Gamzee.

Tavros bit Gamzee's hand, and Gamzee screamed withdrawing his bloody palm.

"Heeellllp!"

Gamzee slapped him angrily across the face, and Tavros, unable to turn his head, was subjected to the full force of the blow.

"Ow!" he yelped, his pale grey cheek glowing bright orange.

"I thought I told you to shut the fuck up!" Gamzee shouted forcing something metal into Tavros' mouth, and then fastening it around the back of his head.

It was a ball gag, not the one that he had specifically chosen but one selected at random in his haste to shut Tavros up. This one was medium sized and large enough to stretch Tavros' mouth slightly, causing discomfort but not serious pain. It was lined with dull, rusty spikes that chafed the inside of his mouth but did not immediately cause him to bleed.

"Mmmmpphhhhhh! Mmphhhh!" Tavros tried to scream through his gag, but all that came out were muffled incoherent noises.

"All right you pansy-assed, mother-fuckin' loser...It's time to be _punished_."

Gamzee found the twelve pronged flail and held it up for Tavros to see.

"Do you know what this is, mother-fucker?" he asked Tavros, gesturing violently in his direction. "This is a mother-fuckin' cat-o-twelve tails. It'll rip your skin right down to the muscle, make a loser like you cry like a mother-fuckin' pupa."

Gamzee held up his other hand and showed Tavros a large syringe filled with yellow liquid. Tavros flinched when he saw this, remembering the first needle and shouted another pointless muffled cry for help.

"And do you know what this mother-fucker is? This mother-fucker's gonna' make _sure_ you feel it."

Gamzee walked behind Tavros and jabbed him in the tush with the needle. Tavros flinched as he felt the sharp, stabbing sensation of the needle piercing his skin and then the layer of fat underneath. He let out a cry of pain that was muffled by the gag, and whimpered as he felt the burning sensation spread around the point of the injection. As Gamzee emptied the contents of the syringe into his bloodstream, Tavros began to feel the lower half of his body again. He felt the dull, stinging ache of the bruises that Vriska had left on his backside, cool air on his naked legs and finally the cold metal restraints that chafed his dangling ankles.

"What's a matter, Tavros? Can't handle a little needle? I used to stab myself with these mother-fucking things at least three times a mother-fuckng day." said Gamzee, and with one sharp swift motion of his wrist he snapped the syringe sideways, breaking the tip of the needle off underneath of Tavros' skin. He grinned evilly as this elicited another terrified, muffled cry of pain.

"There...now it can hurt forever."

Gamzee lifted the twelve pronged flail again.

"Your _whipping_ is gonna' hurt a hell of a lot more than that," Gamzee sneered. "I'd be a shame to scar up that sexy mother-fuckin' body of yours up too bad, so I've decided to give you just fifteen lashes. Five on your back, five on your rump, and five on the backs of your thighs...You ready? Heh heh heh Ha HA HAH HAH HAA heh heh...don't answer. I don't actually mother-fucking care."

Gamzee raised the flail and brought it down hard on Tavro's bare back.

"Mmmpphhh! Mmmmmnnnmppphhhh!"

The twelve metal prongs cut deeply into Travros' back and muddy orange blood seeped from the painful jagged lacerations. Tavros began to cry. Gamzee laughed at him, bringing the flail down on his bare back again.

Tavros screamed through his gag again and bronze tears rolled down his face. Gamzee cackled at the sound of his frantic muffled bawling, and brought the flail down three more times. Then he raised the whip over Tavros' upturned bottom and brought it down again.

Tavros screamed some more and wept pitifully. His bloody back rose and fell sharply with each tortured, agonizing breath as Gamzee spanked him with the whip. He began to tremble, feeling nauseous and lightheaded as his injuries continued to bleed. He then felt the horrible slicing pain move to the backs of his thighs as Gamzee began to whip his legs. The sound of the leather throngs swishing through the air and striking him bare thighs filled his ears, and he felt sick with shame for having been stupid enough to trust Gamzee.

At long last, the whip ceased its relentless flailing. Tavros breathed a sigh of relief, noticing for the first time in several minutes the discomfort caused by the metal ball gag in his mouth. The rusty metal spikes on the inside of it were starting to scrape against the skin causing tiny cuts to form on the inside of his mouth. He tasted blood, and his nose dripped with snot that he was unable to wipe away. In the absence of the terror and the mindless screaming agony, he wept just as hard as he had before, feeling worthless, stupid and pitiful.

Gamzee took a handkerchief from the pocket of his jeans and used it to wipe the snot and tears off of Tavros' face.

"There, there, mother-fucker. That part's all over now," he sneered mockingly, patting him on the head. "You know I hate to be the bad guy, but your really did mother-fuckin' deserve it. So really that was for your own mother-fuckin' good."

Tavros wept harder, wishing that Gamzee would take his hand off of his head. This fake sympathy was worse than the yelling, the laughing, the insults or the jokes at his expense, and if he hadn't been gaged at that moment Tavros would have told Gamzee to drop the fuck dead.

At the moment, however, this was a distant, impossible fantasy. Tavros didn't have enough fight left in him to glare at his tormenter let alone tell him to drop the fuck dead. So instead he closed his eyes tight and wished to die, bronze tears forcing their way out from under his eyelids and over his flushing cheeks.

"I'm going to remove the mother-fucking ball gag, now." said Gamzee. "But only if you promise not to scream. Do you promise not to mother-fucking scream?"

Tavros nodded vigorously, eager to have the rusty ball of metal removed from his aching mouth.

"Good, because if you scream I'm gonna make you chug faygo until your mother-fuckin' stomach explodes. Then I'm gonna pull out all a' your mother-fuckng fangs with pliers and rape you all up in your mother-fucking mouth. Do you understand?"

Tavros nodded vigorously to indicate that he understood.

"Good," said Gamzee, reaching his hands behind Tavros' head to remove the gag.

"Owowowow...," Tavros whimpered as Gamzee wrenched the gag from his mouth and tossed across the room like a hand grenade.

"Does it hurt, mother-fucker?" Gamzee asked him.

Tavros put his head down, ignoring the pressure of the neck shackle against his adam's apple and didn't answer. Gamzee backhanded him across the face.

"I asked you a mother-fucking question!"

Tavros Sniffled.

"...Y-yes," he shuddered.

"How much does it hurt, mother-fucker?" Gamzee ordered.

"...It h-hu-hurts r-really...b-bad," Tavros whimpered in response.

"Excellent…let's play a mother-fuckin' game." said Gamzee.

"...O-ok...I'll do whatever y-you w-wa-want," wept Tavros. "...Just...pl-please don't hurt me anymore..."

Gamzee paced the room several time and then stopped in front of Tavros, a sadistic smirk twisting his painted face.

"Alright, this is how the mother-fuckin' game is played," Gamzee said. "I will ask you a series of mother-fucking questions and you will answer them. For every mother-fucking question that you answer correctly you will not be mother-fucking harmed. For every mother-fucking question that you answer _incorrectly_ you're gonna' get motherfucking _hit_. In the end if you answer more motherfucking questions correctly than incorrectly, providing that you keep your motherfuckin' mout shut...I'll let you go...but heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-ha-heheh-HA-HAH-HAAAH- HA-HEH-heh...if you get more questions motherfucking wrong than right...then you get...heh-heh-heh-heh...an extra _horrible_ punishment."

Tavros nodded slowly to indicate that he agreed to the terms, his hands trembling violently against their icy shackles as he tried to stop himself from wondering what the extra horrible punishment was.

"Question 1," said Gamzee. "Who was the commander of the intergalactic Carapacian fleet that defeated the Leprechauns in the 17th sweep of the 9th Troll Lunar Equinox?"

Tavros of course didn't know the answer to this question. He had never been taught a significant amount of Alternian history and even if he had it wouldn't have mattered because the question was made up.

"Uhhhh...was it...Colonial fried chicken man?"

"Close, but still wrong," said Gamzee. He brought his hand back and smacked Tavros as hard as he could across his sliced and bloody rump.

Tavros bit his lip to stop himself from screaming.

"Nnnnnghhhh...Owwwwww...ouch...oww..."

"Question two," said Gamzee. "...Who was the guy who did the thing at the place?"

Tavros took up at him, his yellow eyes brimming with dark tears, and managed a glare.

"...I'm sorry but you'll have to be more specific."

Gamzee sighed.

"Fine," he said. "Who was the motherfuckin' elderly gent with the motherfuckin' top hat and monocle who won a tap dance contest three miles south of who gives a fuck at 12:45 on a Wednesday."

"...That's not a real question, is it?" said Tavros.

"Like you would know the motherfucking difference anyway," said Gamzee.

"...This is not a real question because...uhhh...b-because I'm pretty uh...I'm pretty sure that 'who gives a fuck' isn't a real place and that you...uhh...you'd h-have no way of knowing that it happened at 12:45 on a Wednesday..."

"Wrong! The correct answer is motherfuckin' _Dancin' Jim Baloshnick_," said Gamzee, smacking Tavros across his injured rump again.

Tavros whimpered, biting down on his lip, and squeezing his eyes shut tight against the jolt of searing pain but he didn't scream. He didn't want to find out what would happen to him if he screamed.

"Third question," said Gamzee. "That motherfuckin' girl, Vriska...do you find her attractive in anyway?"

"Uhhh...n-no-she's...dumb and also ugly..." blurted out Tavros quickly. This was a lie, but he had a feeling that the response would save him from getting hurt again, at least temporarily.

"Good answer," said Gamzee, smirking. "Question number four...I am not the sexiest motherfuckin' man you've ever seen? Don't you just want to take a picture of my glorious cock and make it the screen saver on all of your electronics, and also tattoo it on your face?"

"Y..yes," said Tavros feeling especially disgusted with himself. "...Yes to all of those questions."

"Congratulations, that answer was motherfuckin' correct," said Gamzee. "And now for the motherfuckin' tie braker...motherfuckin'..._question five_!"

_Fuck...what was question five?_

"What..." hiss Gamzee menacingly, his hand slinking down into a large cardboard box with the world "MuThA FuCkIN MiRiCleS" written across the front of it in purple clown makeup. "Did...the Subjugators do...to mother-fuckin' political prisoners...who motherfuckin' lied to them? What...did they do...when they were motherfuckin'...lied to...when they were motherfuckin lied to...to their motherfuckin' face?"

Tavros began to shake, realizing that he was likely to find out.

"...I don't w-want to play anymore...don't hurt me please...please just let me go...I won't tell anyone, I p-pr-promise...just please don't hurt me anymore..." Tavros begged

"I'm giving you exactly 30 seconds to answer the question."

Tavros sobbed.

"...P-please..." he wept. "You know I can't...oh no...no...no...no...don't h-hurt me...I don't know the answer...to the qu-question..."

"Time's up," said Gamzee. "What's your mother-fucking answer?"

"...Uhhh...uhhhh...I uhhh...I don't know!" Tavros blurted out.

"Sorry, 'I don't know' is the wrong answer!...You lose!" Gamzee shouted, and he pulled a short silver blade from the cardboard box, about two inches long and sharpened on both sides.

He took a step forward, brandishing the knife threateningly. Tavros recoiled, his brimming yellow eyes widening with terror. Gamzee walked counter clockwise around the hanging restraint, and stood behind him, giggling maniacally.

"They did _this_," said Gamzee, and Tavros flinched as he felt the tip of the cold metal knife against his crack.

"You're evil!" Tavros sobbed. "...H-how do you live with yourself."

"You and your motherfucking obsession with that motherfucking Bitchka...makes me motherfucking sick. Never mind about me...it's always Bitchka this...and motherfucking Bitchka that...but I don't care...I'll rape that bitch and motherfucking kill her. Do you understand, motherfucker, that's what I'm gonna' do with her the next time I see her...and you're not gonna' be able to do a motherfuckin' thing about it...because you'll be too busy motherfuckin'...bleeding to death!"

"...Don't stab me...p-please," begged Tavros.

"The knife is going up your _ass_, Tavros. There isn't anything that you can do about it," said Gamzee.

"...Please...I...I'll do anything you w-want..."

Gamzee paused for a moment to contemplate this.

_Any thing I want huh...heh heh heh hah heh...no he must be lying. The second I set that mother-fucker free he'll go running-no mother fucking-scratch that...crawling back to Bitchka. Fuck that shit-blooded motherfucking dumb-ass, anyway. He's not important...he's just a motherfuckin' childhood crush...and I've out grown him. That mother-fucker had his chance to be something more...I was even gonna' let him live when I slaughtered the rest of these motherfuckin' fools in the name of Lord English...but now he's only the first of many...many...MANY motherfuckin' victims._

Gamzee cackled sadistically and with one swift, fluid motion, forced the knife into Tavros' body.

Tavros screamed like he was on fire as he felt the blade slice his vulnerable insides. Gamzee removed the knife, unbuttoned his fly and pulled the zipper down on his jeans, before pulling down his pants and the pair black and purple stripped boxer shorts underneath.

Tavros continued to scream as Gamzee violently thrust his erect, grey cock into him, forcibly stretching the searing injuries. Gamzee bent over him and grabbed onto his horns like a pair of handlebars on a motorcycle. The weight of Gamzee's lanky, emaciated body sent spasms of agony across the jagged injuries on his back as Gamzee leaned over him.

Gamzee felt the felt the front of his shirt become saturated with bronze blood as he thrust his hips forward plunging his cock further into Tavros' brutalized body. He ignored the blood-curdling shriek of his victim as he continued to grind his pelvis violently forward, pounding against his injured bottom, while at the same time kicking his legs forward, and slamming his knees against the victim's bloody, dripping thighs.

"...Blood makes the best mutherfuckin' lube...motherfucker..." Gamzee whispered, his lips very close the corner of Tavros's grey, pointed ear as he leaned over him, feeling the soft texture of Tavros' Mohawk against the underside of his chin. The warmth of his victim's, large, trembling body consumed him, encircling his throbbing, desperate cock in a kind of gnawing, indescribable pleasure. It was a pleasure equivalent to the rush he got after he had chugged his first sopor pie, what was now many years ago, before he'd grown numb to the substance's mind altering effects. Whatever. It didn't matter anymore anyway...because, nothing, he decided, _nothing..._was better than _this_.

Tavros' annoying screams and tortured, humiliated sobbing were the sound track to Gamzee's mindless, relentless thrusting; the mantra to which he silently vowed that rape was totally going to be his thing from now on. Somewhere on a sparkly motherfuckin' cloud of miracles and bullshit the mirthful messiahs were surely inhaling a bong full of soporiphic fumes whilst simultaneously fucking themselves off to this. Gods can do that you know. Gods can do two things at once.

"...Say my name...you worthless piece of shit..." Gamzee moaned, feeling himself come close to orgasm.

Tavros continued to sob and shriek with mindless agony as his searing body was jerked forward with each relentless thrust, the grinding creak of the rusty chains that secured him to the ceiling lost beneath the ear splitting timbre of his agonized wail.

Gamzee tightened his grip on Tavros' horns and forced his head forward so that the shackle around his neck began to choke him.

"Say my...fucking name..."

Gamzee relaxed his grip on Tavros' horns, and he choked, gasping for air.

" G...Gamzee...M...M...Makara..." Tavros gasped, whishing he had the strength to just let the fucker strangle him to death.

Gamzee released on of Tavros' horns an moved his hand down the troll's neck, caressing his collar bone and shoulder blade, before suddenly ceasing his bicep between two sharp unkempt yellow nails and pinching it until it bled.

"...Wrong name," Gamzee growled.

He thrust forward viciously, and Tavros screamed out in pain feeling his injuries rip with the force of the violent motion.

"Aggghhhhhhhhhh! God! Oh God!" he swore between sobs.

"That's right mother-fucker...I'm God...I'm the mirthful motherfuckin' messiahs, don't you know?...I've finally figured out who those mother fuckers are, motherfucker...they're me and motherfuckin' _ME_!" Gamzee shrieked in Tavros' ear, thrusting forward with every ounce of his strength; making the chains swing as he moaned and lurched forward; reaching climax as he ejaculated his seed. Tavros whimpered as he felt his belly fill up with the nasty substance.

The pipes above them collapse under the pressure of their combined weight and the two men fell to the floor.

_Take that rewind it back Troll-T has got the beat to make your booty go SMACK._

Gamzee stood up, and clumsily freeing himself from the tangle of chains and fallen ventilation pipes, walked in the direction of his cell phone's familiar ring tone.

_Take that rewind it back LudaTroll has got the beat to make you booty go SMACK._

He was still naked from the waist down, dripping with bronze blood and purple cum, as he knelt down and freed his cell phone from the back pocket of his discarded black and purple polka-dot pants.

_Take that rewind it back-_

Gamzee silenced the ring tone by pushing the tiny envelope that had appeared on the screen with his thumb.

_Fuck, _he thought, his yellow eyes narrowing with disgust as he recognized the numerous 8's and navy blue font.

It was a text message from Vriska.

* * *

So what do you think? Too much? Not enough? Did anyone even make it to the end of this hideous chapter? Spoiler alert: Vriska's on the war path. I'll post the next chapter time I have some free time, and also when (or if) I get at least seven more reviews.


	8. Chapter 8

**sTALLING **

Gamzee looked down at his cell phone and read Vriska's obnoxious 8 riddled text message.

**Vriska: 8 can't find T8vros is he w8th y8u?**

Gamzee flipped the phone sideways and quickly typed a response with his thumbs.

**Gamzee: EiGht'S GOnNa HaVe Ta' LoOk MuThAFuCkIn' HaRdEr! ! ! ! ! !**

**Vriska: 8h, ha ha. Very funny. My cellph8ne's set to auto quirk s8 shut up.**

**Vriska: Y8u've pr8bably got that dumb r8ngtone still, wh8t with the b8tches and h8es and what n8t. **

**Vriska: Y8u and y8ur fucking rap music.**

**Gamzee: My RiNgToNe Is NoT DUmB It iS MuThAfUcKiN' CoOl AnD AwEsOme. DoN't Be AlL Up AnD HaTiN' On TrOLL-t.**

**Vriska: F8ck y8u and f8ck Tr8ll-T. He has n8 talent and can't sing w8rth a fuck.**

**Gamzee: DoN't Be HaTiNG oN TrOll-T.**

**Gamzee: ...HE iS mY **

**Gamzee:...SeCrET BoYfRiEnD. **

**Vriska: Well he's bl8wn t8 fuck with the rest of 8ur s8ciety s8 I d8n't think he'll be answering y8ur fan letters any time soon.**

**Vriska: Have y8u seen Tavr8s?**

**Gamzee: WhY? ArE YoU LoOkInG FoR HiM? **

**Gamzee: I wAs UnDeR ThE IMpReSsIon ThAt yOu DiDn'T gIvE a ShIt. **

**Vriska: I d8n't. **

**Vriska: It's just that I said s8me th8ngs to h8m this morning and he was pretty upset the last t8me I talked to h8m.**

**Vriska: 8s he w8th y8u?**

Tavros moaned and shifted in the pile of tangled chains and downed ventilation pipes.

"Are you going to...," Tavros sniffled. "Are you going to...k-kill me?"

He shut his eyes and broke down into a brief fit of hysterical sobbing.

"If you are t-then...p-pl-please do it n-now. I don't want to...to h-hu-hurt anymore."

Gamzee ignored his victim's pitiful plea for mercy and typed Vriska another reply.

**Gamzee: YeS, He Is WiTh Me. He MuThErFuCkiN' HaTeS YoU aNd Is iN MuThErFuCkiN' LoVe WiTh ME.**

**Gamzee: SuCk On ThAT**

**Gamzee: MoThErFuCkEr.**

**Vriska: Ok, s8 may8e I deserve that but I still want to talk to h8m. Can y8u ask him to send me a text?**

**Gamzee: SaYs hE dOsEn'T wAnT MuThAfUcKiN' TaLk To YoU.**

**Vriska: Or c8uld you at least tell h8m that I said **

**Gamzee: ThAt YoU'rE MuThAfUcKiN' SoRry?**

**Vriska: Fucker, I'm Vr8ska Serset.**

**Vriska: I don't apologize to any8ne.**

**Vriska: F8r any reas8n.**

**Vriska: Ever.**

**Vriska: Tell h8m 8'm looking for h8m and 8 want to see h8m.**

Gamzee put the cell phone down momentarily. He found a few of Equius' towels in a pile next to his box of torture devices and wiped himself off with it. Cool froods always remember to bring a towel.

"She says she's looking for you and she wants to see you," Gamzee said, finding his pants and underwear in a crumpled pile near one of the walls of the dark room and pulling them back on.

"...She...she is?" Tavros replied, his quivering voice, sounding almost hopeful.

"Naw, just motherfuckin' kidding. I told her that I was motherfuckin' torturin' you an' she told me that that was good because she motherfuckin' hates you and she wants you to motherfuckin' die."

Tavros broke down into a another sobbing fit.

"...I want to die...j-just kill me. I'm s-stupid and I and to...d-die."

**Gamzee: He SaYs DrOp ThE fUcK dEaD bEcAuSe He nEvEr WaNts tO sEe YoU aGaIn.**

**Vriska: I'm g8ing to call your cell ph8ne. Then y8u put me 8n speaker ph8ne and let me talk to him.**

**Gamzee: BiTcH, I aIn'T pUtTin' YoU oN mUtHeRfUcKiN' sPeAkEr PhOnE.**

**Vriska: To fuck y8u're n8t! Put me 8n speaker ph8ne 8r I'm g8nna come the fuck d8wn there and f8nd him myself! ! ! !**

**Gamzee: FiNE, LeT's MaKe ThIs MuThErFuCkIn' InTeReStInG. **

Gamzee snapped the keyboard on his cell phone closed and turned off the power. It played four electronic sounding notes and then the screen went black. He turned to Tavros.

"You want to die, motherfucker?"

Tavros nodded, his eyes clamped shut tight against the pain.

"Well, I got what I motherfuckin' wanted from you, and now you're all mutherfuckin' broke and used up," said Gamzee, reaching down into the box of torture devices and pulling out a long, sharp, silver blade. "It's time to cut your throat, motherfucker...You're about to get your wish."

Gamzee walked over to Tavros and clumsily freed his head and neck from the pile of downed ventilation pipes and rusty chains. He then pressed the tip of the knife to Tavros' throat. Feeling the cold metal against his neck, Tavros opened his eyes and looked down.

"...I changed my mind!" Tavros shouted, jerking his neck back away from the knife. "Don't kill me-oh god-please don't kill me-I want to live!"

Gamzee withdrew the knife.

"Coward," he said.

...

"Shit," said Vriska, typing some profanities into her cell phone and then feverishly tapping the touch screen to send it. "He logged off."

"What the fuck, Vriska," said Terezi

Vriska didn't look up at her but instead continued to tap the screen of her cell phone as though she were trying to stab it to death with her finger nail. Terezi was blind but could hear the nervous clacking noise of Vriska's nails against the glass screen and understood that this must have been happening.

"One minute you can't stand to look at him and the next minute you go ape shit crazy if he ignores you for even one second," Terezi continued. "You don't make any sense to me at all."

"It's been longer than a second." said Vriska. "It's been more like a few hours."

"Whatever."

Vriska had been sitting in her room, at the edge of her bed when Terezi and Aradia had entered through one of the doors that she had stupidly forgotten to lock. The soft patter of Terezi's cane against the medium blue carpet, and the dull scuffle of Aradia's mechanical feet had been inaudible to her beneath the roar of internal fury set off by Gamzee's inconsistently capitalized purple font.

"What are you doing here, anyway," said Vriska to Terezi, her yellow eyes shifting from the troll with short hair and red sixties-style sunglasses to the robotic troll with the vacant expression. "And why did you bring..._her_."

"Nepeta noticed that you were sad," said Terezi. "So she wanted us to all get together and have girl talk, like some sisterhood of the traveling pants shit. She's weird like that. Aradia and me came in here because the rest of them are afraid of you-because you're a killer psycho bitch-so they wanted us to do recon and find out how receptive you were to the idea."

Vriska typed something into her cell phone and tapped the send button again, swearing as this failed to illicit a reply.

"Your separation anxiety is astoundingly pathetic," said Aradia.

"Oh shut the fuck up Aradia. Why don't you go _recharge_ or something?" said Vriska.

"She's a pleasure to talk to as always." muttered Aradia to Terezi.

Terezi walked over to the door, opened it and muttered something to the trolls standing in the hallway. Feferi, Nepeta, and Kanaya walked into the room.

"Hi Vriska, we heard that you were feeling down so we decided to stop by and cheer you up," said Feferi. She motioned toward Kanaya who was carrying a bunch of heavily embroidered floor pillows and Nepeta who was holding a tray of brownies. "Kanaya made these pillows so that we can sit on the floor and talk and Nepeta made us all some brownies."

"Hey, Nepeta, are those special brownies?" joked Terezi "Because if they are you might have to watch out for Karkat to sneak in here and flush them all down the toilet."

"They are special brownies!" replied Nepeta who didn't understand that Terezi was using the word "special" to imply that they might be drugged. "Made with love for all of my special friends!"

Vriska groaned and rolled her eyes, but didn't bother to look up from her cell phone. Tavros wasn't answering her texts, and it was really starting to get to her. She couldn't get Gamzee to answer his cell phone either, which was just infuriating.

Kanaya dropped the pillows on the floor and Feferi arranged them in a circle around the plate of brownies.

"Oh this is going to be so fun!" squealed Nepeta. "We can paint each other's nails, and eat brownies, and talk about boys!"

Kanaya settled herself on one of the pillows. It was her personal favorite, a circular, stormy blue cushion, embroidered with elegant serpent-like creatures that resembled her lusus. They were green and outlined in emerald-colored sequins.

"Did you really make these?" Feferi asked sitting down a rectangular red cushion embroidered with a loose patter of painstakingly detailed yellow flowers. "They're so good. You know, you could sell these."

"Thank you, Feferi." said Kanaya. "I am rather fond of them, though. It might be difficult for me to part with them."

Nepeta sat down on a light green oval cushion, decorated with stylized pink kitty faces.

"OMG! This one has _kitties_ on it!" she exclaimed excitedly.

Aradia sat down on the cushion next to her. This one was circular, black and decorated with a network of complicated galaxies and star systems, each constructed from a pattern of white sequins and clear plastic jewels. Vriska sighed and slumped down on the only cushion that remained, a diamond shaped one with yellow tassels. It was teal and decorated with wreathes of dark blue roses on thorny yellow vines.

"Ok, so I'll humor you," said Vriska.

Feferi reached for one of the brownies in the plate in the center, and cautiously nibbled on one of the corners of it, ever wary of Nepeta's baking. It was chocolate and not terrible, but mostly raw in the center, and with something crunchy in it that she suspected was probably pieces of egg shell. Nepeta smiled at her, fishing for a complement, and she smiled back politely, reluctantly taking another bite.

"Thier delicious, Nepeta," she said.

"Thank you, I was thinking about trying to sell them."

"Expect to go out of business," said Terezi as she bit into one of the brownies that she had taken from the plate in the center. The pieces of egg shell in it made a loud crunching noise as she chewed it slowly, breaking them into pieces with her sharp fangs.

"I'm so excited about my pupa, you guys!" exclaimed Nepeta cheerfully as she grabbed a brownie and greedily stuffing it into her mouth. "Since I'm bepreggerds now, we have to think of some good baby names. If it's a girl I want to name it Katara...or Katnis...or maybe Leonah."

"What if it'ps a boy?" asked Feferi.

"I want it to be a girl."

"Ugh. How many times to I have to tell you dumb idiots that bepreggerds is not a real thing and that our species is doomed to die," grumbled Vriska.

Aradia slumped down into her sagging cushion and propped herself up sideways on one robotic arm.

"I am jealous of you," said Aradia, watching the other trolls crunch on the misshapen brownies. "Because you can have children and I cannot."

Vriska mumbled something under her breath and stared down at the screen of her cell phone as though she were hoping it would explode.

"Shit, Aradia's the one that ought to be upset," said Terezi. "Didn't her matesprit have sex with Kanaya?"

Kanaya looked a little a fronted by this statement, the high archers of her waxed eyebrows drawing together in a scowl, which was a gesture insufficient to mask her emerald blush.

"No, I not upset about that," corrected Aradia. "I asked her to do it. Sollux is so smart and good, I want his genetic legacy to live on, and I'm not jealous about him having sex with Kanaya because she's only attracted to women."

Kanaya relaxed as Aradia explained this to everyone and nervously snatched a brownie from the plate in the center.

"I asked my internet girlfriend first," said Kanaya, biting into the brownie. "She's cool with it."

Vriska looked down at her cell phone again, scanning the screen for Tavros' orange font but found nothing. She threw the phone down in disgust and it bounced off of the pillow and landed with a clatter on the blue-carpeted floor. Terezi groaned and rolled her eyes, the red, unfocused pupils of which were partially visible beneath her slipping sixties style sunglasses.

"I'm not in a relationship right now, so I had sex with Karkat because we're friends," said Terezi readjusting her sunglasses so that they properly covered her burnt out eyes. "The chart had me paired with Gamzee, but he scares the fuck out of me so I just decided to ignore that...but...Karkat's lost interest in me since Nepeta dumped Equius and became his moiral instead...We're spades for each other, so technically him and I are still 'a couple' sort of, but it's pretty casual."

"Karkat's so sweet," said Nepeta. "He'll make such a good daddy."

"Karkat's an asshole," corrected Terezi. "Though I admit his attitude's improved since you've become him moiral."

Vriska, crammed a handful of brownies into her mouth. They were mildly disgusting, but she was really hungry so she ate them anyway. _Shit_, she thought, _If I keep eating like this I'm going to get fat._

"Have we forgotten that this is supposed to be about Vriska?" said Feferi grabbing the last brownie from the plate before Kanaya, who had her hand stretched out in anticipation of picking it up, had a chance to even touch it.

"Yea, Vriska, tell us about _your_ fucked up love life," said Terezi.

Vriska groaned and rolled her eyes.

"I think Tavros is mad at me. He won't answer my text messages." she said. "So I've decided find out where he's hiding and go kick his ass."

"Yea," said Terezi. "You go girl."

Feferi shifted on the cushion and fiddled with a long strand of her wavy black hair. She had that expression on her face that she always got when she was tending to wounded cuddle fish.

"Be nice to Tavros," she said. "He's a sweet heart...and I'm sure you're over reacting anyway. Maybe he's busy or something."

"Busy being a douche," said Terezi.

"He could have just lost his cell phone or something," said Feferi.

"Because he's a douche," said Terezi.

"Terezi..." Feferi sighed.

"What? We're out of eggshell brownies and I'm _hungry_ and _pissed as hell," _said Terezi.

"Sollux planted a tracking device on Gamzee's cell phone around the time he started going nuts," said Aradia. "So if Tavros is with Gamzee and Gamzee has his cell phone with him. It definitely won't be hard to track him down."

"Aradia, don't feed her mania," said Kanaya.

"I'm just sayin'"

Vriska stood up.

"Why the hell didn't you mention that sooner?" she said. "Why do you all insist on distracting me from what's important with your insistent broad babble?"

Vriska turned and her eyes shot immediately to the slightly a jar door, were she saw what was surely Erdian's leering yellow eyes, framed in the thick black frames of his square glasses. She ignored Terezi's spirited profanity laced moral defense of "broad babble" and Kanaya's coldly analytical assessment of her, Vriska's, inability to express gratitude, as she strode over toward the door. Her eye's locked on Eridan's, and they glared back, glowing slightly in the visible sliver of the darkened hall way.

Vriska wrenched the door open, and Eridan, who had apparently been leaning slightly against it, lost his footing and tumbled unceremoniously into the room.

"What the fuck, Eridan," said Vriska.

Eridan stood up and dusted himself off, readjusting his striped scarf so that the back of it draped over the back of his shoulder.

"What, I'm not invited to this little pity party? Why the hell not? I like gossip. I like brownies," he said.

"Well too bad," said Terezi. "This is girl talk. Get the fuck out."

"I do not appreciate your sexest exclusion of me from your activities," said Eridan, pointing an accusing grey finger at the trolls in the room. His wavering yet pompously annunciated royal accent was brimming with a self righteousness, that was only superficially sarcastic, as opposed to truly, genuinely sarcastic as he had hoped.

"Ugh...Eridan, you're so annoying," said Aradia.

"Let him stay if he wants to stay," said Kanaya.

...

Tavros slept, his broken body sluggish and racked with pain. He was too disoriented to know whether he had been drugged again or he had simply collapsed from exhaustion. Maybe he had passed out from blood loss. It was hard to be sure. All he knew was that the jagged lacerations sliced through the back of him and down into his dreams where he continued to feel their sting.

He dreamed of a carnival, filled with purple blooded royals, and rusty, lopsided, Ferris wheels burnt black and held together with jagged rusty nails. Subjugulators with snarling, grotesquely deformed faces, painted with bronze and rust colored blood, circled the place on unicycles, leering evilly and juggling crooked knives. He saw himself, on a platform in the center of it, tied one of those test your strength games. That is to say, the type of machine that requires you to hit a lever with a mallet so that you can see if the a ball inside of a tall rectangular box will hit a bell. A cross eyed royal blood, half of whose bloody, purple face was writhing with purple parasites took a mallet in his hands and hit Tavros over the head with it.

"His head won't break. What kind of shit is this? His head won't break," the Troll growled in an oddly distorted voice, which matched his grotesquely mutilated face in its nightmarish intensity.

He hit Tavros over the head with the mallet again and screamed when nothing happened, throwing the mallet to the ground in a display of violent disgust. A large, hunchbacked, subjugulator with a head of wild, purple curls, and a gaunt middle aged face painted with dark orange-brown blood, strode over to the royal blooded troll.

"Easy there, Slick," he said. "It's 15 boon bucks to test your strength."

"Fuck you subjugulators and your damned rip off tourist traps. Fuck them backwards, forwards, sideways and upside down! This game is rigged!" the royal blooded troll raged. Purple blood from the side of his face that was being devoured by parasites splattered onto the Juggalo's black shirt and his own expensive leather jacket.

"The game's not rigged," said a female royal blooded troll who was standing next to him, her voice sounded like Vriska's, yet she was clearly a royal as well. She wore an expensive looking fur coat, the front of which was splattered with the violet colored blood that dripped from her melting face. "Clearly you are too weak."

The female troll took the mallet in her hands and hit Tavros over the head with it. She became furious when nothing happened and shrieked profanities in a manor very reminiscent of Vriska as she smashed the mallet down again and again against the top of Tavros' head.

"Fifteen boonbucks to test your strength!" the subjugulator repeated, wrestling the mallet from her hands.

"Fuck you, this game is rigged!" she shrieked. "Why won't his head break?"

"...Ah, heh heh heh...there's no reason to be alarmed ma'am," said the Subjugulator, leaning against the test your strength game that Tavros was tied to and twirling the mallet with well-practiced skill. "I will cut his eyes out and stuff his head with candy! Then, when his skull breaks the candy will fly everywhere. Just everywhere...it's gonna' flllllyyyy! Just you wait and see! Completely worth the price of admission, ma'am. I guarantee!"

"Oh just do it already so that we can see it and go the fuck home!" the girl with the melting face snapped.

Tavros shivered, his eyes glued to the two frightening royals. Beneath the expensive clothing what was visible of their bodies, namely their faces and necks, the boy's chest beneath the open leather jacket and the girl's legs beneath her black, knee length skirt, were arthritic and cadaver-like, riddled with radiation burns and oozing purple scars. Perhaps they were ghosts left to wander this ravaged post-apocalyptic landscape of Tavros' dead planet. Perhaps they were something more sinister than that, less apathetic. Either way, Tavros didn't want them to stab his eyes out and fill his head with candy, even if this was just a dream.

"...No..." Tavros moaned as the subjugulator and the two royals advanced on him, their fanged grins spreading with surreal, sadistic delight. "D...Don't do it. Please..."

Tavros began to shake.

"Please...j-just leave me alone.."

Tavros saw the flash of a knife rushing toward his face and gasped. His eyes snapped open and he found himself in the dark room again, alone with a sadistic madman.

"Good, you're awake," said Gamzee who was crouched down, leaning slightly against the wall at the opposite side of the room, and staring with unnecessary intensity into his victim's tearstained face.

Gamzee stood up and walked over to the place where Tavros was lying. Tavros attempted to recoil but found his movement restricted by a wooden stockade, which bound his neck and wrists.

"Did you really think that I was gonna' leave you muthafuckin' unbound?" said Gamzee. "Heh heh heh heh...I'm afraid it's the stocks for you, motherfucker! You did motherfucking scream, after all. Didn't you promise me you wouldn't motherfucking scream?"

Tavros closed his eyes, and clamped his mouth shut in anticipation of whatever horrible punishment would surely befall him. He began to tremble, his tortured brain barraging him with hideous possibilities.

Gamzee crouched down and put a hand into the large cardboard box, grinning evilly as he felt his fingers close around something cold and cylindrical.

"Now you have to be punished for motherfucking screaming," said Gamzee. "Now you have to...heh heh heh, heh heh heh HAH HAH HAH HAH! Heh heh heh...take you motherfucking _medicine_."

Tavros didn't want to find out what was in that box. He needed a stall tactic, he decided. He needed to say something, _anything_, that would stop Gamzee at least temporarily from doing whatever it was he was thinking about doing to him.

"You know, I realize something, now," said Tavros, feeling thoroughly disgusted with himself for even thinking about saying what he knew he was about to say.

"Yea, and what's that," said Gamzee.

"I uhh...I...uhhh..."

"Motherfucker, if you say 'uhh' one more time!"

"I think I'm...I'm actually g-g-glad that this happened," stammered Tavros. "And that I actually d-did deserve it...because you're a much higher blood caste than me, and I should never have disobeyed your authority. I don't think you're a bad p-person because you...because you hurt me. You just did what needed to be done...and I uhhh...I"

Tavros didn't think he could make himself say "I love you" even if it had once been true in a platonic way. The lie tasted like vomited in his throat, so he choked it back down, and chose instead to leave the statement incomplete.

"You what?" demanded Gamzee, annoyed by his faltering speech pattern.

"I...I appreciate that I need discipline...and don't hold it against you for giving it to me," finished Tavros lamely, his face flushing with shame. He hated himself for saying such an incredibly stupid thing. He really did. So much so that he almost actually did feel like he deserve to be tortured.

"Motherfucker, are you stalling?"

"Uh...no?"

"I think you motherfucking are."

* * *

Comment or I won't update 0_0


	9. Chapter 9

**War P8th**

"...You know...I uhh...I always used to think that you have uh...the uhhh...coolest hair...It's like all uhhhh...what's the word...It's like all curly and junk." Tavros prattled on. "And every time you talked I used to say...that guy...that guy is like uh...I don't know like the smartest and coolest guy...and people would say you were on drugs, but then I would say that they just thought that because you were such a cool laid back guy...and people would say that you were crazy...but then I would tell them...I would tell them that you were just misunderstood."

Gamzee narrowed his eyes in irritation. Tavros' pitiful although admittedly somewhat distracting attempt at flattery was starting to wear on him.

"Motherfucker, I _am_ crazy!" Gamzee shouted, annoyed by Tavros' bizarre reluctance to accept this obvious fact.

In his current state of sobriety, Gamzee was very adept at detecting deception in a troll's voice, and certainly there was some of that here, in Tavros' desperate ass-kissing rant. However, there was also something vaguely sincere about the last couple of things that Tavros had said; something genuinely sentimental. Perhaps, Gamzee thought, the poor fool was attempting to move his tormentor to pity.

"Motherfucker, before I was a stoner, I used to lay awake at night thinkin' about ways to hurt trolls," Gamzee said. "Here I am three-maybe four sweeps old just motherfuckin' lyin' awake thinkin' about ways to make them mother-fuckin' scream...and I read books about subjugulators and their interrogation techniques and just motherfuckin' thought about it all of the time. I saw trolls walkin' around on the beach outside of my motherfuckin' hive, mostly boys, though there were a few rare exceptions...and I thought, motherfuckers, I'm gonna' catch you and hold you captive. Motherfuckers, I'm gonna' make you wish that you'd been struck down dead on your motherfucking wriggling day. Before I was a stoner, I used to pull the motherfuckin' arms and legs off'a my dolls, did you know that, you ignorant motherfucker? I used cut their chests open and rip out their stuffing autopsy style. I never hurt any motherfucking real trolls though, not until now. I always motherfuckin' stopped myself from taking it that motherfuckin' far...which more than what your sick little girlfriend can say. I tried to keep that separate from the other parts of myself by drinkin' the motherfuckin' sopor...I did it for years. I kept that motherfuckin' part of myself separate. It felt like sawing off one of my own arms but I did it. I did it for my friends who I thought that I motherfuckin' loved, but I realize now that that was really stupid. It was motherfuckin' stupid to deny myself that pleasure."

Gamzee put his hand into the cardboard box, his fingers closing around the metal cylinder again.

"...I'm n-not a doll, Gamzee...I feel sad...and I h-hurt," said Tavros. "I'm not made of plastic...I have a heart and it's...its b-broken."

"Yea, that's what G. I. Joe said-before I twisted his head off," said Gamzee very matter-of-factly. "Motherfucker, you're bumming me out. I'm puttin' the gag back on you."

Gamzee selected a ball gag from the cardboard box and crammed it into Tavros' mouth. Tavros felt something sharp pierce this tongue and the roof of his mouth and whimpered. He attempted to recoil, but found this instinctive movement inhibited by the wooden stockade that bound his neck and wrists. There was no point in attempting to resist. He was powerless as Gamzee carelessly forced the device deeper into his mouth and secured it around the back of his head. This gag was covered in long narrow spikes that were like needles. Tavros continued to whimper, hating the sharp stinging ache of the gag, though it in no way comparable to the pain in the rest of his body. He looked up at Gamzee in a final desperate attempt to plead for sympathy, his grey lips pouting around the cruel gag; his already, very bloodshot eyes pricking with bronze tears.

"Don't give me that look you motherfuckin' wimp. You're gonna get a lot worse than that in a minute," said Gamzee.

He put his hand back down into the cardboard box and lifted something out that was large, metal and cylindrical. Tavros closed his eyes not wanting to figure out what it was.

"Motherfucker, do you know what _this_ is?" Gamzee growled.

...

Vriska stared down at her cellphone, ignoring Eridan, as he plopped down next to Feferi on her flowery cushion. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her, and planted a kiss on her cheek. Feferi smiled, and leaned back against him, rested her head against his warm chest. The expensive fabric of his waterproof shirt was soft and had a texture, which was reminiscent of both silk and velvet.

Vriska walked across the room, exiting into the hallway. She ignored the conversation of the other trolls, which continued despite her absence, and slowly their voices faded into the background as she made her way toward the computer room.

Why, she wondered, why was she so damned worried about him? He was probably fine, anyway, and just ignoring her. Probably he had decided to just get it over with and be Gamzee's matesprit instead. Sollux was going to rip on her forever if she asked him to trace Gamzee's phone. Though she was sure he would do it. He never missed an opportunity to show off his skills.

"Vriska."

Vriska heard Eridan's voice behind her and turned around. Eridan, who had apparently followed her out into the hallway, looked slightly nervous, his expression serious, his eyes dead set on her.

"I was hoping to speak to you alone," he said.

"Eridan, I don't have time for this," said Vriska.

She turned and began to walk away from him.

Eridan grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around.

"Vriska, this is important," he said.

"Ok, fine," said Vriska. "But, make it quick. I have some very important snooping to do."

"As you know, a charismatic acquaintance of mine recently persuaded me to invest a large amount of money in stock for his production company," began Eridan.

"Are you talkin' about that Any Warhol wannabe, Dave Strider?"

"Yea, that's the one. The pink alien with the yellow hair," said Eridan. "He convinced me to invest in stock in his company, except I didn't exactly understand what 'stock' was or how it worked...especially not within the context of this new intergalactic economy. He just told me that I would make a lot of money, so I did it. But then his premiere film, _Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff Take a Dump_, was a flop...and then _Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff go to Fast Food Chain you've Heard of but 'Ant Never Seen Before in Your Life_ was a similar flop. So then I checked my account digitally and somehow...and believe me I have no idea how this happened, I'm actually in debt several million boon bucks. I'm poor now. I'm boon broke."

Eridan paused for breath, and glanced over at Vriska expectantly.

"But, you, you're still rich, aren't you?" he inquired innocently.

"Not as rich as you were, obviously, but yes, still fairly rich," said Vriska. "But I'm not lending you money because obviously there's nothing in it for me, and also you're an irresponsible dumbass and I hate you, and believe me when I say I mean that in the most platonic way imaginable. Now get the fuck away from me. I have to go find Tavros."

"...Oh, come one, Vriska, I'm not like that cultureless peasant, Tavros. I _need_ to buy cool things. Buying cool things is a physical need for me. If I don't buy cool things I will be _dead_ I will literally _die," _said Eridan.

"Why don't you ask Feferi for money," said Vriska, unamused.

"Um...about that...Feferi's broke too."

"What?"

"Yea, I invested her money in the Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff franchise as well," said Eridan.

"What? Why?"

"Because her money is my money, goddamnit," said Eridan. "But don't tell her I did it, she'll glubin' hate me. Vriska? ...Vriska?"

"Hold on, I'm reading something," said Vriska, staring down at her cellphone.

While Eridan had been talking she had been Google searching the title of Strider's first movie. She found an article about it on a movie review sight entitled: _Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff take A Dump takes Home the Golden First Place Trophy for Largest Turd of the Season,_ and tapped the blue text link with her index finger.

**_Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff take A Dump takes Home the Golden First Place Trophy for Largest Turd of the Season_**** By Snoopy McRoodler**

**_Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff take a Dump_**** is the story of two college age stoners (Ben Stiller and Adam Sandler) who, accompanied by their token colored friend, Gregory (Morgan Freeman) enter their turds in a competition for largest turd, but later become distracted and instead eat massive amounts of Fridos before blasting off into space on gassy unicorns. Widely regarded as the worst movie in the history of man, this is the premiere film of self-proclaimed "ironic hipster" Dave Strider, author of the popular yet controversial Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff web comic.**

**This film's grotesque sense of humor along with its many questionable stylistic decisions and incomprehensible story line sent viewers fleeing from the theater in droves. When I went to see it over half of the audience left after a scene where the three main characters have a competition to see who has the largest penis and Morgan Freeman is revealed to have not one, but three vaginas. The three men then decide to "celebrate unique genitalia" by jumping into a swimming pool filled with pickles and brine shrimp. While this is happening, a shirtless old man in a bra looks on, and makes strange beeping noises while juggling balls of smoking camel manor. Later, Adam Sandler, bends over and farts into the camera for a scene that lasts just over thirty minutes, while Ben Stiller and Morgan Freeman chant "Pork and beans, pork and beans!" As this is happening a low resolution image of the woman from the Progressive auto insurance commercials periodically flashes across the center of the screen, while, in the background, a man in a purple chicken suit screams "My head is on fire you cock sniffing pickle swindlers!"**

**When asked as to whether the man in the purple chicken suit was representative of humanity's perverse obsession with modern technological commodities or an attempt to skewer the decisions of the Bush administration of the late 19th century, Strider, a charismatic young artist with slicked back blond hair, who to date has never made a public appearance without his red and black tuxedo or sunglasses, replied "Sure, why not. I guess I'm just deep like that." When criticized for the decision to make the man in the purple chicken suit exit sideways to the left of the screen while dancing to the tune of La Cucaracha, the young artist replied: "To be honest, I don't understand people's fixation on the man in the purple chicken suit. There are plenty of other things in the movie that don't make any sense, which are calculated to be just as infuriatingly irreconcilable, yet people seem to remember the chicken suit. This I don't understand." When asked as to why he chose to replace Adam Sandler with Sean Astin as Hella Jeff, throughout most of the scenes in the second half of the movie, Strider, very coolly readjusted his shades and told me to "Deal with it."**

**Ranking dead last in the Hollywood box-office, _Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff take a Dump_ takes home the hotly contested, golden, first place trophy for this season's largest turd.**

"Well played Snoopy, well played," said Vriska, returning her cellphone to the pocket of her jeans. "Way to skewer, the phonies with your clever witticisms, and gender neutral pseudonym. Excellent job."

"I see you've read McRoodler's criticism of the awful fucking movie that ruined my life," said Eridan. "As you can imagine, getting Morgan Freeman to play a man with not one but three vaginas didn't come cheap...and we had to pay him extra to put on a G-string and a Madonna bra in the scene where he plays jump rope next to a giant pile of creamed corn shaped like Hillary Clinton...and I told Strider that it was a bad idea but he just kept telling me that I didn't understand his culture, and I guess I don't because he managed to fuck me royally by exploiting my ignorance of it. He made me foot the bill for a massive 300 thousand foot high solid gold statue of his penis emerging from the center of jewel encrusted a toilet. Told me that it was absolutely necessary. The fucking thing didn't even make it to the final cut of the movie. He had his animators reproduce it with CG just to fuck with me."

Vriska laughed derisively.

"Oh my god you're such a fucking idiot."

"Well, gee, Vriska, I knew I could count on you to not rub it in. Now how 'bout some money, sugar momma. Right now I need a couple thousand to stop Feferi from realizing that we're broke, and also about three hundred for this jacket I found on eBay."

"Forget it, Eridan, I'm not lending you any money. No way in fucking hell will you ever get a penny out of me. Not if you're starving to death, and living in a public restroom, wearing discarded newspapers and plastic bags for clothing" said Vriska.

"Yes, I figured you would say something like that," said Eridan. "Which, is why I've decided to make you an offer that you can't refuse."

"I think I know what you're about to suggest," said Vriska. "And believe me when I say that I can refuse it."

"I know you, Vriska. I know you can't go longer than a week without being in a black rom relationship...and since you and Tavros are in the flushed quadrant now...I was thinking..."

"No way, Eridan. No fucking way in hell. We're through, do you hear me? Done. Finished forever," snapped Vriska before Eridan even had a chance to finish.

"I've given you all of the information that you need to black-mail me," said Eridan. "And it is only in your nature to take advantage. I'm confident that in time you will, and when you do, I will be your willing slave-for cash, of course. You will have me over a barrel, so to speak, but also literally if you so choose, thus, allowing you to continue indulging your sadistic desires in a way that, as you know, only black romance will permit."

Eridan turned his back to her and bent over slightly, giving himself a smack on the backside.

"You know you want it, Vriska," he said.

"Actually, I don't want it, so put it away."

"Come on, Vriska. Just because Tavros wants to be monogamous doesn't mean you have to be."

"I said no."

Vriska heard her cellphone beep, and removed it from the pocket of her jeans. Staring down at the screen she saw that someone had sent her a text message with an image attachment.

"What happened to you, Vriska? You used to be cool," said Eridan.

Vriska ignored him and tapped the pixilated image of the small manila envelope to read the text message. She inhaled sharply, realizing that that the message was from Gamzee, and quickly read it.

**Gamzee: Ha, Ha, To ThE MoThErFuCkin' Ha, YoU MoThErFuCkin' SlUt HoAr! WhAt Do YoU ThInK Of ThIS?! **

Below the message was an image attachment. Vriska clicked on the tiny pixilated image of the paperclip, and screamed as her eyes were assaulted by the photograph.

"What's wrong? Why'd you scream?" Eridan inquired nonchalantly.

Vriska looked up from the screen of her cell phone, her face contorted with fear and rage. She shot Eridan a hateful glance and then looked back down at the cellphone, noting with a pang of what could only have been sympathy, the face of her weeping lover...and the...and the...oh gods...

"This!" Vriska hissed, turning the cellphone in Eridan's direction. "_Look_ at _this_!"

* * *

Writing pornography for strangers is super fun. You should definitely try it some time. It's an experience I highly recommend.

As some of you seemed to express an interest in the continuation of the torture seem, I am seriously considering acquiescing to your request and descending further into the depths of downright raunchy not-niceness. _Cough, cough,_Klismaphilia_, cough cough! _(Man that was a weird cough. If you don't know what it is, don't type it into a search engine. It'll probably make your computer explode. Wikipedia's your best bet.) If you have an issue with this story going in this direction and would like me to tone it down a notch, or maybe just put it in a separate chapter that can easily be skipped, let me know. If you express a significant level of decent I will amend my previous plans. If you express support I will go through with them. If you chose to remain silent and say nothing I will simply assume that people are not onboard with this anymore and keep the unedited version of the remaining chapters to myself.

The next chapter will contain a short sex scene between two supporting characters. You choose which two, but no lezbos. There's at least one cock in all of my pairings. Deal with it. Whichever couple gets the most votes gets written. If several couples are tied for first place I will either write them all or chose the one that I like best. Also, in the next chapter, the confrontation between Gamzee and Vriska will occur.

Here's some additional sound track for the story that I neglected to think of previously.

I Hate Myself for Loving You by Three Kisses

At the Bottom of Everything by Brighteyes

Until next time, folks.


	10. Chapter 10

I'm getting really bored of this story so it will definitely be ending soon. Brief fluff will be written concerning minor characters who received the most votes in reviews for the last chapter. Since most signed reviewers have requested that I not extend the torture scene, I've decided censor it out.

* * *

**TR811 C0pps Vs. ThE DaNgErOuS LuNaTiC **

**(Part I)**

Sollux groaned, attempting to focus on the lines of complicated red and blue code sitting in front of him on his computer screen. The idiot trolls in the room weren't making it easy for him.

Karkat Vantas was currently throwing a fit because of something his future self said to his present day self five days ago online. He screamed profanities, stomped his black sneakers against the floor, and smashed his tiny grey fists against his computer monitor until his stupid face turned red. It would have been somewhat hilarious had it not also been so infuriatingly redundant. This sort of thing happened a lot with Karkat, he was stuck on some kind of a perpetual loop of cosmic cluster fuck douche-baggery.

"That fucking asshole, that FUCKING NUB MUNCHING UNJULATING ASSHOLE!" Karkat screamed, and with difficulty Sollux resisted the urge to strangle him.

"Do it Karkat," goaded Terezi evilly. "Send him the message. Tell that fuck munch who's boss!"

Silently, Karkat agreed that this was in fact the best solution. He strode over to his computer, sitting down and typing the following response to what ever had previously been said to him:

**Karkat: YOU ARE AN INCOMPETENT, EMPTY HEADED, CUNT-SUCKING MORON, WHICH IS WHY NOBODY LIKES YOU. SO GO CRAWL INTO A HOLE AND FUCKING SHOOT YOURSELF. EVERYONE WILL BE SO FUCKING HAPPY THAT THEY'LL HAVE A HUGE FUCKING DANCE PARTY ON YOUR SHIT-BLOODED CORPSE, INCLUDING ME. BUT SERIOUSLY, FUCK YOU.**

"Now press send! Press send!" insisted Terezi excitedly.

Karkat pressed send and she broke out into a fit of laughter.

"You do realize that you just sent the same message that you've been screaming about for five days to yourself five days in the past?" she cackled.

"Shut up. I hate you!"

"Karkat you're such an incredible dumb ass!" Terezi said pointing at the wall behind Karkat's head and breaking out into another fit of maniacal laughter.

"Terezi, I'm trying to fucking code over here," complained Sollux. "I swear to god if I have listen to another one of Karkat's stupid temper tantrums I'm gonna' kill him _and_ you.

Vriska burst through the door to the computer room. Sollux, Karkat and Terezi turned in her direction, and stared at her incredulously as she charged toward them, holding her cell phone out in front of her as though it were something disgusting that she didn't really want to be holding, perhaps a dried, cellphone-shaped turd.

"Gather your fucking weapons," she announced, yellow eyes flashing dangerous as she raised her red handled pirate's cutlass. "The psycho must _die._"

...

Aradia moved through the hallways, the metal joints of her clunky appendages scrapping along stone floor. Frequently, she wandered in this sort of aimless meandering way, feeling like the ghost that she knew she was beneath the robotic facade. The blue blood that now ran through her false veins, was something foreign, perhaps even harvested from unwilling donors. It felt stolen to her, unnatural. So she drifted, longing for the dark brown blood that had once been her living body's sustenance.

She had once loved Sollux, she was sure she had, at least when they were both kids on Alternia, back they were both oppressed, looked down on, underprivileged, and pissed as hell; back when they were both low blood trolls.

She didn't think she could love anything now. She was an outside looking in; an unnatural specter; an atrocity of science. She watched her friends now the way that she had once watched actors on television, with a detached hopeless indifference. Never was there a way to communicate the danger of their obvious stupidity. Her words were lost like shouted comments at a scripted television series. So really it was pointless to even try.

She drifted over toward, Equius' room, draping her robotic body. Equius had constructed the vessel, a skillfully detailed silver duplicate of her original body down to her coiled horns and long, tousled hair. She could not stop thinking about the muscle bound, high blood engineer now; could not stop herself from forgetting how much she had hated the nasty bigot when she was alive.

She knocked on his door.

"Yes, who is it?" his voice asked her from inside of the room.

"It's not Vriska, if that's what you're afraid of," said Aradia.

Equius unlocked the door and let her inside.

"Aradia? What brings you here?" he asked her.

Her metal eyes wandered down from his face to his black tank top, slick with blue sweat. It clung to the contours of his muscular body, much like the thin fabric of his black athletic shorts, which did little to mask the generous bulge of his imposing crotch.

"I think you know the answer to that question," answered Aradia coldly. "You programmed me to want to fuck you."

"...Such course language."

"But it's true, isn't it?" Insisted Aradia.

"Miss Aradia, I am an upper-class gentleman, and I assure you that I have always behaved as such," he said.

"Oh, just take your clothes off already."

Aradia found herself propelled toward him, as if by some primal, subliminal instinct, her hands sliding below the waist band of his black athletic shorts. Blue droplets of sweat dripped from his forehead, and he shivered as he felt the cold metal curves of her steel body press into him. His mouth fell open as though in disbelief, as Aradia explored the contours of his muscular legs and buttocks, before moving her hands to his penis. He felt himself get hard immediately as her smooth metal hands closing around his shaft. It was a pleasure seeking touch, ultimately exploratory and selfish. She felt the growing organ in her hand, entranced by the warmth of the living flesh.

The door flew open and hit the wall behind it forcefully. Aradia jumped backward quickly, exhuming her hands from Equius' pants.

"Let's go people! We've got a clown to murder!" Vriska shouted. "Who's with me!"

Equius groaned and stuck his hands in his pockets rolling his eyes. This was the second time Vriska Serset managed to unwittingly cock block him.

"Of course Equius won't help you," said Sollux. "But I'm pretty sure Aradia will. Her and Tavros used to be friends _way_ before he met you."

"Is Tavros in trouble?" Aradia asked her tone very serious.

"Gamzee's gone nuts without the sopor," lisped Sollux. He wanted to add "Just like I told Karkat he would." but thought better of it since Karkat was currently standing right next to him, and was likely to respond to such a comment with a characteristic bout of disproportionate anger.

Aradia nodded and walked quickly from the room, understanding at once what that must have meant. Gamzee's creepy little crush on Tavros was certainly no secret, and she had long suspected that this combined with a drug related melt down and Gamzee's disturbing subjugulator obsession may potentially result in disaster. She looked around her, observing the crowd of trolls that Vriska had managed to gather as her army. There was Sollux, of course, that one didn't surprise her. Sollux was a really good guy, after all, and he knew better than anybody that low blood trolls ought to stick together. Then there was Karkat, also not a surprise. Karkat, having announced himself "the leader" at the dawn of their species' ultimate decimation and their subsequent exile to the asteroid, felt a sense of responsibility to the group as a whole. Terezi was famous for playing "troll cops" so of course she wasn't going to miss this...and Eridan, well that one didn't make any sense to her at all. Why on earth would_ he_ involve himself in this?

They moved forward, through the narrowing hallways, down stairways to the dim and twisted passageways which coiled beneath the inhabitable area of the catacombs. Vriska lead the charge, holding her pirate's cutlass out in front of her as she navigated the dark passageways. Sollux moved beside her, his face illuminated by the dull glow of his cellphone as he observed his GPS carefully, watching the flashing red dot that indicated the location of Gamzee's cell phone. Periodically, he would tell the group which way to turn, or if there was a wall in front of them, veiled by the increasing intensity of the catacomb's darkness. Karkat was armed with his sickles, Terezi with her cane, which concealed a pair of retractable blades. Eridan had his magician's wand-shaped taser. Aradia, who technically was a weapon, carried nothing. The lamplight glow of her robotic eyes provided the group with just enough light to progress through the now otherwise totally lightless corridors.

"Turn left," Sollux instructed, and the group moved left.

"Hey, Vriska," Terezi whispered teasingly. "Why are you all so worked up over this whole Tavros thing?"

Vriska ignored her and kept moving forward, her eyes dead set on the blackness in front of her.

"Is it because you loooove him?"

"Bitch, I will stab you in the face," Vriska whispered back furiously. "Let's get something strait, alright. Nitram is my property, and _nobody_ damages Vriska Serset's property and lives to tell the _fucking_ tale. _Nobody._ The clown has to fucking die."

"Shh! Everybody, quiet. We're getting close," Whispered Sollux.

The trolls moved forward, through the darkness, brandishing their weapons. As they progressed through the passageway they began to hear voices; angry shouting; a sadistic cackle; screams of pain; a young man's frantic sobbing.

"Oh...oh no. Poor Tavros," Aradia whispered quietly to herself.

Terezi's hand tightened around the handle of her cane.

"Shh! He'll hear us," she whispered.

"What the motherfuck was that!" they heard Gamzee's voice shout from somewhere nearby.

There was the sound of a violent slap followed by a tear-choked whimper.

"Shut the fuck up. Stop crying." Gamzee hissed quietly. "There's someone out there. Don't motherfuckin' move or make any kind of a motherfuckin' noise. Scream for help and I swear to the motherfuckin' mirthful messiahs, I really will motherfucking kill you this time."

Sollux put his cellphone in his pocket. Eridan handed him the steel baseball bat that he had been carrying on his belt. Sollux ceased the weapon quickly, preparing himself to strike with it. Terezi hit the switch on her blind girl cane, and a pair of razor sharp blades flipped out from either end of it. She could smell Gamzee moving closer to them in the dark, the purple blood that dripped from his injured mouth registered in her nostrils as a distinctively unappealing brand of grape soda. The bronze blood splatters on the front of the mad man's shirt smelled like the sweet creamy peanut butter at the center of a piece of stale Halloween candy.

"He's here," Terezi whispered to her fellow troll cops. "He's on the ceiling. I don't know how, but he's on the ceiling. He definitely watching us."

Terezi heard a loud crash that was Gamzee letting go of one of the pipes that ran along the ceiling and landing on Eridan's shoulders. Eridan screamed and Terezi heard the buzz of his wand shaped taser, the swish of a blade, and the metallic clank of Aradia's metal fist as it missed Gamzee's head and hit the stone wall behind him. The smell of lilacs and purple hyacinths splattered the air.

"He fucking stabbed me!" Eridan shouted, and the sound of his voice was accompanied by the shrill buzz of his stolen taser, far off in one of the shadowy corners of the room, were Gamzee had retreated.

The buzz of the taser grew closer and Aradia screamed. Her metallic body crumbled, hitting stone floor all at once, and she bled blue from her robotic mouth...to Terezi it smelled like a blueberry pie. Vriska sliced the air with her cutlass. Sollux swung his baseball bat. Both trolls missed as Gamzee ducked out of the way and lunged toward Karkat with the taser. Karkat swung his sickles, managing to knock the taser out of Gamzee's hands. It tumbled to the ground and Terezi lunged for it, following the smell of the splattered grape soda that clung to its cylindrical contours. She spun her cane like a ringmaster as she smelled him rushing toward her, and sliced him across the chest, knocking him backward in surprise.

Aradia rose from the ground and stumbled forward, her hand finding what she assumed must have been a light switch. A dull yellow light clicked on, illuminating the room.

"Heh heh heh heh heh Ha HAH HAH heh...," Gamzee's voice cackled, though he was no were to be seen in the room. "You dumb motherfuckers brought motherfuckin' Mrs. McGoo. I'd be insulted if it wasn't so motherfuckin' hilarious. Heh. heh heh heh...Give up Bitchka, you're no match for me without your vision sevenfold!"

"Come out here, you fucking lunatic! Say that to my fucking face!" Vriska screamed, slicing the air with her cutlass.

"Well..." said Gamzee, grinning. "...If you mutherfuckin' insist."


	11. Chapter 11

**Tr8ll C0ps vs. the DaNgErOuS LuNiTic **

**(Part II)**

Gamzee jumped down from a grate in the ceiling, and stood before his adversaries, an insane grin spreading his bloody, half-toothless mouth. Strands of his wild, black, curly hair stuck to his painted forehead, which was slick with sweat and furrowed with some unperceivable emotion.

Vriska charged at his with her cutlass, and he sidestepped her jouster-like lung, before swinging his foot around and in one graceful, carefree maneuver, kicking Karkat squarely in the nuts, whist simultaneously throwing a short dagger at Vriska's head. Vriska moved quickly to the side and the dagger stuck in the crumbling cement wall, inches away from her right ear. Terezi charged at Gamzee with the Taser and he ceased it from her hand before lifting her from the floor by her neck and tossing her across the room like she was piece of Styrofoam. She collided with Sollux, who crumbled beneath her weight. Both trolls hit the cement floor.

Gamzee ducked to avoid Aradia's metal fist, which hit the wall behind him. A spider web of cracks radiated outward from the impact point and she withdrew her fist quickly, jumping into the air as Gamzee retaliated with another throwing dagger. The knife soared under her feet and hit Eridan in the chest.

"Son of a bitch!" Eridan swore, and with one shaking hand he ceased the blade by its handle and dislodged it from his flesh.

He through the knife back at Gamzee but missed and hit Sollux instead, just as he had managed to crawl out from underneath the now unconscious Terezi.

"What the _fuck_, Eridan?" Sollux screamed. He looked down and saw the hilt of the knife protruding from his stomach. Trickles of mustard colored blood dripped from the searing wound and he fell down again, unconscious.

Vriska charged toward Gamzee again, this time managing to graze his arm with the cutlass before he stepped out of the way. True to the descriptions of adult subjugulators that she had once read in her ancestor's diary, he was faster than a charging hoofbeast and as elusive as a shadow. He jumped back onto the ceiling, pulling himself through an open grate, and then jumped down again, almost a spilt second later, through a second grate, appearing as quickly as though he had teleported, in front of Aradia. She swung her foot backward, preparing to kick him in the groin, but was too slow. He ceased her robotic head and snapped the steel neck sideways. She crumbled and the yellow lights of her electronic eyes flickered dead. _Fuck_, thought Vriska. _I guess subjugulators are supernaturally strong too. Well...Isn't that just fucking _perfect_?_

Gamzee cackled, and stared down his final opponent, the only adversary left standing and unwounded, Bitchka Serset, his despised romantic rival.

"Heh heh heh heh heh ha Hah hah heh heh...run away little girl. You know you don't stand a motherfucking chance against me, but honestly, I have no motherfucking interest in you what-so-motherfucking-ever, so if you run away now I won't go after you."

Vriska charged at him with the cutlass, eyes glaring, brows furrowed in rage. He sidestepped the blow without flinching, the obnoxious smirk that twisted his face as unfaltering as ever.

"After motherfucking all, I have a vested interest in the motherfucking fate of the Alternian race as well. Run away and I'll let you live...but I'll be back for that motherfuckin' pupa growing in your stomach in about twenty years...when Tavros is too old and motherfuckin' gross for me to heh heh heh heh..._enjoy_..." taunted Gamzee.

"Ok...there's all kind of fucking _stupid_ things wrong with that _ridiculous_, _disgusting_ thing you just said!" screamed Vriska, and jumping into the air, she swung her cutlass, aiming to slice open Gamzee's throat. He easily ducked to avoid the blow.

As if the thought of Gamzee torturing Tavros for twenty years wasn't horrible enough, the mere suggestion of bepreggardry, or whatever the fuck it was called, being a physical possibility, was really sending her over the edge. She screamed, slicing the air wildly with the cutlass; her mind a seething, relentless torrent of unfathomable hatred. He stood there, grinning and dodged every skillful, well-practiced blow.

"...But try to take him from me and I'll motherfucking kill you," Gamzee said as though continuing his previous monologue without interruption. "Bein' all up and prepared for the motherfuckin' future is motherfuckin' choice, if you ask me, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna' let myself get rundown by a fat, pregnant, bitch!"

She screamed and lunged at him with the knife again. This time it sliced a hole in his black t-shirt before he managed to move out of the way. He stumbled and in the split second it took for him to regain his balance, she swung the blade again and chopped off a few of his fingers. A torrent of purple blood squirted from the grotesque stumps that remained.

It wasn't enough just to kill him, she decided. She was going to make him pay for damaging her property...until he _begged_ for death.

He swung his fist and hit her in the face. She felt her nose snap, and heard the sick crunching noise of the shattering cartilage as sticky, warm blood dripped down from her nostrils. There was no time to react; she knew she had to make him pay, and fast. She moved suddenly, slicing the lunatic across the chest with her cutlass. He reached for the Taser, which was sticking out of the pocket of his pants. She knocked his hand out of the way with the blade of her weapon. He withdrew his bloody palm and she noted that he was beginning to slow down. Clearly groggy from blood loss, he staggered, and she snatched the Taser from his pocket.

"Come on!" she screamed shooting electricity from the end of the wand-shaped Taser. "Come and fucking get me!"

He charged toward her, swinging his fist at her face, and she dodged the blow, digging the end of the Taser into his stomach. She electrocuted him and he screamed, falling to his knees as his fingers twitched involuntarily. She kept her finger on the button of the Taser, waiting for him to fall down dead, but he didn't. He just kept screaming and twitching, sliding slowly onto the ground as the blood that ran from the stumps of his missing fingers pooled around him. A subjugator, apparently, was extremely difficult to electrocute to death, which was just fine with Vriska. She wanted him to suffer before he was slaughtered, the way that he had made the boy who was her property suffer.

"Why!" she screamed, continuing to jolt him with electricity. "Won't!" His fanged mouth opened involuntarily and he began to drool, mindless, struggling to stay conscious as he lay there slopping around in the growing pool of his own urine. "You!" He bit his tongue and rivulets of purple blood cascaded down his chin, as he continued to flail, eye lids flickering, legs kicking against the stone floor. His agonized shriek reverberated against narrow walls of the coffin-like passageway. "Die!"

"Vriska, stop it!" Karkat shouted, rising quickly from the place where he had fallen. "You'll kill him!"

"Back the fuck off, Karkat! I'm _trying_ to kill him!" snarled Vriska.

In hindsight, she supposed it should have been obvious that Karkat would attempt to impede her plans in this way. It was fairly obvious to her now that Karkat had not come with her to help rescue Tavros, but to protect Gamzee. Not only that, but the way that Karkat had just jumped up from the floor led her to believe (accurately) that he had pretended to be badly injured and just laid down on the fucking floor, anticipating that she would probably go nuts and try to murder Gamzee if she were successful in subduing him.

Karkat tackled her and wrestled the Taser from her hand. Quickly, snapping it in half before she had a chance to wrestle it back from him.

"It's not his fault, Vriska!" Karkat shouted defensively. "It's the just the drugs...the drugs made him crazy and then the withdraw made him even crazier. I guess I'm partially the blame for that...I just..."

Vriska walked over to Gamzee who lay unconscious on the floor, in a pool of his own blood and urine. She reached into the pocket on her grey jacket and withdrew a pair of handcuffs which she used to secure the subjugulator's hands behind his back. Then withdrew a second pair of cuffs from her other jacket pocket and used them to secure his ankles.

"...I just...didn't know that quitting it cold turkey would send him over the edge like that..." continued Karkat. "...I know that he's done some pretty...some pretty fucking terrible things-but damn it, he's still my friend...and he doesn't deserve to die like that! He needs help...and I'll be a fuck wrangling nub-munch if I'm not gonna' try and help him."

"Fine, OK, whatever, I don't care anyway," said Vriska. "But you better keep him locked the fuck up...or so help me, I _will_ kill him."

Karkat nodded in agreement.

Eridan stood up from the place where he had fallen on the floor, and strolled over to them as though nothing had just happened. There was a hole in his shirt on the shoulder were he had been stabbed, and just visible underneath was the frayed fabric of what was surely the best body armor that money could buy.

"Oh good, you got him," he said.

Vriska rolled her eyes.

"Don't tell me you were fucking faking it," she said.

"Are you actually that surprised." responded Eridan.

"Actually, no," conceded Vriska.

_Oh well_, she thought. Getting back upstairs with all of these people who weren't fit to walk was going ridiculously difficult, without a few able bodied men to drag them up the steps.

"Ok...," said Vriska after a few moments of contemplation. "Eridan, here's what I want you to do. Carry Sollux back up stairs and leave him with Feferi so that she can patch up his injury. Karkat, you take Gamzee to that dungeony area and lock him up. Eridan, make sure he does it. I'm going to leave Gamzee's cellphone with Aradia. So when you're upstairs, find Equius, give him Sollux's cellphone with the GPS on it, and tell him to track her back to this spot, so that he can repair her. Then when the two of them come back upstairs, they can carry Terezi with them. Do all of these things without fucking it up or pissing me off and you will be rewarded."

Eridan nodded, and picked Sollux up off of the ground, throwing him over one shoulder as he began to carry him in the direction they had come. After a few steps he turned back, waiting for Karkat.

"You know your plan is great and everything," said Karkat to Vriska. "But you forgot about Tavros...that is...if he's still alive."

"That's his wheel chair over there," said Vriska, pointing to a wheelchair that was partially covered in a cloth, sitting in the corner of the room. "I can just dump him back in that and wheel him back upstairs.

"Fine, ok, that's fair enough. I don't think that Eridan can carry him anyway," said Karkat, and he hoisted Gamzee up by the chain connecting the pair of handcuffs that bound his arms and dragged him along. Immediately, he began bitching and swearing and complaining about how heavy he was and how he was sure his arm would fall off if he dragged Gamzee another inch, but Vriska ignored all of this, confident that her slave Eridan would ensure the success of this mission, and prevent any foreseeable treachery and/or laziness on the part of Karkat.

_Yes_, she thought, walking over to a narrow cement door, very confident that this would lead her to the location of her stolen property. She felt her broken nose with her prosthetic arm, and ceasing its painful, twisted contours between her thumb and forefinger, snapped it quickly back into place. _Yes, I am the fixer of obvious problems...the problem fixer extraordinaire._

She tried the handle of the door, and was surprised to find it unlocked. The handle twisted easily and the door swung open. She stepped inside.

Quickly, she scanned the room looking for Tavros. At first she saw nothing, except for a lot of pipes running along the ceiling and from the ceiling down to the floor. There was what looked like a discarded pile of chains and harnesses, a large cardboard box, and a sheet draped over some bizarre, lumpy object. She inched over toward the object, cautiously holding her weapon out in front of her as she moved, checking the floor for traps.

Vriska reached out in front of her grabbed a handful of the sheet and pulled it onto the ground, gasping as she saw the thing that had been concealed underneath.

It was Tavros, bloody, beaten, and barely conscious; his hips elevated by a metal bench; his neck and wrists bound by a wooden stockade.

"Tavros..." she said, reaching out to touch his bruised, tear-stained face. His eyes were closed; his mouth open and dripping blood. Suddenly, all of her previous convictions to distance herself from him disappeared. She patted him on the shoulder in a place where there were no injuries so that she wouldn't hurt him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but knew that this would apply a painful pressure to the deep slices in his tortured skin, and so resisted this compassionate instinct.

"Tavros..." she said again, rubbing his shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. "Tavros...are you ok?

"_Uuuughhh_..." Tavros groaned. His eyes opened slightly and then shut tight again.

"You're...you're safe now. He's gone," she said, hoping to dispel whatever fear he might have about Gamzee's imminent return. "I'm going to saw through this restraint and then we'll...and then we'll get out of here and you can get the medical attention that you need."

"_Nnnghhh_...oww...I feel really...r-really dizzy and n-not good..." Tavros slurred between moans, his head slumped down further, as though he didn't have the strength to hold it up anymore.

Vriska began to saw through the lock on the restraint with her cutlass, and through the sound of metal scraping against metal she said: "Shhh...it's ok, you're going to be ok."

She finished sawing through the lock on the restraint and it clattered onto the ground. She pried the stockade open, and he slipped backward, his chest hitting the ground. He moaned and lay limply in the place where he had landed

Tavros began to weep quietly.

"...I-I'm so ashamed," he stuttered.

"Oh...oh, _Tavy_, you don't have anything to be ashamed about. None of this is your fault," Vriska whispered, and she stopped what she was doing temporarily to stroke his hair. "I'm going to go get your wheelchair now...and wheel you back upstairs, and then Feferi will patch you up the way she used to do with those cuttlefish back on Alternia...Everything's going to be ok..._you'll see_."

Vriska turned to go get the wheelchair, and she felt Tavros' hand close around her ankle. She turned back around and looked down to see Tavros, lying face down on the floor. With some effort, he lifted his head and looked up at her imploringly.

"...Don't leave me...Don't l-leave me down h-here," he moaned, his voice, groggy; barely audible.

She knelt down and brushed the mop of black hair away from his sweaty, grey forehead.

"I'll be right back, I promise," she said.

Tavros loosened his grip on her ankle and she darted into the next room, finding the wheel chair, which she had previously left in the corner where she had found it. Then she wheeled it back into the room where Tavros was lying. She looked at the wheelchair and then at Tavros and then at the wheelchair and then at Tavros. Then she said:

"Shit, I didn't think about this. How am I supposed to lift you?"

Immediately, she regretted having sent Eridan and Karkat back up without her. At the time it had seemed like a good idea. After all, Sollux had been seriously wounded, and probably needed to be operated on right away. She couldn't have made them wait...and besides. She had really wanted to be reunited with Tavros, alone, and without any annoying comments from her piers; completely free of the temptation to behave as though she didn't care; in the absence of their judgment.

"Ok, I'm going to try to lift you without hurting you now...," she said taking a deep breath. "Here we go."

She knelt down and wrapped her arms around the back of him. He cringed and yelped as she brushed against his injuries and slid her arms under his arm pits, managing with some difficulty to standup and lift the upper half of him off of the ground. He was heavy, like a sack of bricks. She swore, feeling her grip on his bloody body falter. He slipped from her grasp and hit the floor again.

"_Ow!"_

_"..._Wait, I can do it," said Vriska. "Let me try it again."

"No..._no_...It..._it hurts_!"

"It'll all be over soon, Tavros. Just a few minutes up to the main floor and then you can lie down and rest."

She grabbed him under the armpits and attempted to lift him again.

"Shit, _shit!"_ she swore feeling her grip on him loosen. "I don't think I can lift you. You're too heavy!"

She dropped him and his face and chest hit the cement.

"_Ouch!" _he cried out indignantly. "S-stop it! No more!"

Vriska sat down next to him on the floor, and brushed the hair out of his face again. She removed a clean handkerchief from her pocket and began to wipe the blood and tears from his cringing face.

"I know the last time I saw you, we didn't really part on good terms," said Vriska quietly. "I said some things that I didn't actually mean...I did it because I thought I was doing the right thing...but I realize now...that I probably should have done the wrong thing...If that makes any sense."

"...What are you talking about?" asked Tavros.

Vriska finished cleaning Tavros' face, then wiped his nose with the handkerchief and discarded it on the floor. She explained the incident with Equius and how he had said that he would not operate on Tavros' legs as long as he was in a relationship with her. As she was explaining this, she spotted a discarded towel on the cement floor, stood up, walked over to it, picked it up and draped it over Tavros' naked body. She'd probably have to call a couple of other trolls to pick him up and carry him back upstairs, and when that happened, as much as possible, she wanted to minimize his embarrassment.

Tavros laughed.

"...Oh, that's uh...that's ok. I've been using the wheel chair for a pretty long time so I'm pretty used to it. It's not really a big deal. I mean, it uh...it bothered me a lot when I was a kid, but I'm pretty used to it now. I rather have you than my legs anyway."

_I'd rather have you than my legs anyway. _What a comment to throw out there so off-handedly. What an awful judge of character.

"…Oh Tavros!" Vriska wept, throwing her arms around him.

"St-stop it, Vriska. You're...you're h-hurting me."

Vriska withdrew.

"Ow...ow, my back," Tavros moaned.

Vriska massaged the back of his neck, which was bruised from being bound but otherwise uninjured, and wept for a few moments overcome with joy at having found him alive.

"Please...p-please don't cry," he said.

"…I'm not crying," said Vriska, wiping the blue tears that lingered on her face away with her sleeve. "Shut up."

She dialed Eridan on her phone and sent him a text, instructing him to get a few people who could carry Tavros up the steps and bring them down to the place where they were. He messaged her back and said that he was right on it.

"The others are going to come down here in a few minutes and carry you out of this place," said Vriska, patting his arm.

"...W-will you k-kiss me and make the pain feel better?" said Tavros.

Vriska, lay down next to him on the floor, and turned on her side, kissing him on the forehead.

"Of course," she said.

* * *

Review or I won't update. See this. This is my serious face -) -_- This face means that I am serious as a heart attack. Write some kind of feedback. Did you love it or hate it? Editing in this chapter is super lazy. Perhaps, more so than usual. So later I might go back and correct some things.

If you are one of the people who requested I post the chapter that I was talking about previously, request it in your review and if I get at least twenty signed reviews requesting it (anonymous reviews don't count because for all I know they can all be from the same person)I will post it in a flash back chapter that can easily be skipped by anyone who_ doesn't_ want to read it. Signed reviewers who _don't_ want me to write it need not mention it at all. As much as possible, I'm trying to please everyone here, let me know how well it's working out. Also, for those of you who don't seem to have noticed this, as far as sex scenes go, I only write straight sex and male bondage. So if you're looking for something else you should probably look elsewhere.

Since this story has such a more impressive following than any story I've ever posted before, I will definitely be finishing it, but only if it keeps being reviewed. Well, I'm off to write some crap about One Piece. One of the main characters is a cool muscle guy who gets tied up, starved and beaten in like the first episode so I've recently become a fan. -_-


	12. Chapter 12

**The )-(ealer's Makeshift )-(ospital**

The trolls laid Tavros down on one of the mysterious things called a bed, and then left. Vriska remained in the room, and as soon as the door closed behind them, she walked over to Tavro's bedside, and put a hand on the dark bruise that encircled his neck, in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.

"Don't touch me," mumbled Tavros bitterly.

Vriska withdrew her hand.

"Tavros, what's wrong?" she enquired emphatically.

"I've been thinking," said Tavros.

_That's always bad_, thought Vriska. She observed Tavros, who lay on the mattress face down, his body covered with a thin, white sheet. Blood was seeping through its white fibers, dripping down the sides of the mattress in slow bronze rivulets.

"...I've been thinking that...that uh...that its probably not a good idea for me to see you...uh...ever again...you know for the rest of my life," said Tavros, his voice still distorted from prolonged weeping. He closed his eyes. "You..._I_...just..._just get out! _There, I said it. Just get out of here Vriska! Leave me alone!"

Vriska took a step backward, her eyes widening in shock.

"Tavros...where did this come from all of a sudden?" she asked, her voice still gentile, her eyes still trained on the blood soaked white sheet.

"Go away."

"I'm not fucking leaving," snapped Vriska caustically. "At least not until Feferi gets here. There's no way I'm going to leave you alone with those injuries. Now tell me why you're acting like this all of a sudden."

"You always act like you don't like me whenever other trolls are watching. It makes me feel like such a giant piece of crap." said Tavros angrily.

Oh, that was it. He'd noticed the way she'd avoided contact with him while the other Trolls were carrying him back up the steps; the cold, glassy, emotionless stare.

"Oh please," said Vriska derisively. "This is so childish. You're over reacting."

"You're bad for me, Vriska. You take advantage of my low self-esteem, and also you exploit my disability. I'm not going to let you do it anymore. Get out. Goodbye. There's the door," said Tavros.

"Look Tavros, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, ok? Old habits, you know?" said Vriska.

Tavros glared at her.

"Yea, yea, yea. Blar, blar, blar," he said.

"I'm not fucking leaving," said Vriska, crossing her arms. "You can't make me leave."

"To hell if I can't," said Tavros.

Feferi opened the door and pushed a cart filled with medical supplies into the room. Her long, black, curly hair was tied up in a pony tail, and she was wearing white gloves.

"Oh, you poor sweetheart," Feferi said, as her eyes fell on the bloody white sheet that covered Tavros' body. "You've lost so much blood."

She pushed a gurney over to the bed side, and hung a bag of orange-brown liquid from one of its metal hooks.

"I have only a few bags of donor bronze blood saved," said Feferi. "I bought them off of the internet about a year ago, because I figured something like this could possibly happen."

"They sell _troll blood_ on the _internet_?" Vriska repeated incredulously.

"I know, I had that reaction too," said Feferi. "Apparently some of the aliens in this star system think that they can attain various supernatural abilities by drinking different colored troll blood. The price, of course, has skyrocketed since our planet was destroyed, and most off-world trolls who survived the explosion are middle or high blood, so bronze blood is particularly rare-These glubbin' nutcases think it can give them the power to talk to animals."

Feferi finished setting up the I-V and wheeled it over to Tavros' bed side.

"How are you feeling, buddy?" she asked him sweetly.

"Ughhh...not good," Tavros replied groggily. "I feel all...all dizzy and like...like I'm going to pass out."

"That's probably because you've lost so much blood," said Feferi.

She lifted the needle at the end of the I-V.

"Give me your wrist," she said.

Tavros recoiled, pulling his wrist underneath of his body to hide it from her.

"No!" he said. "Please! No more needles."

Feferi sighed.

"I promise it'll only hurt for a second," she said. "And then you'll feel much better."

Tavros hesitated.

"Oh just give her your wrist before you bleed to death, you stupid idiot," snapped Vriska.

She'd only ever seen Feferi work her medical expertise on wounded sea animals. So really, she figured. Feferi was more of a veterinarian than a doctor. Maybe Tavros was thinking the same thing.

"I'll be f-fine just leave me alone."

"Tavros. Give me your hand. _Now_." Vriska demanded.

"O-ok, fine," said Tavros, and slowly he withdrew his hand, holding it out, wrist up and closing his eyes.

He grimaced as Feferi stuck the needle of the I-V in his wrist and secured it with a band of white medical tape.

"Ok," Feferi announced nervously. "Now I have to disinfect your wounds, stitch them up and bandage them. Unfortunately um...most of my painkillers didn't survive Karkat's drug raid."

"You're kidding me! I'll ring that little, stubby-horned son-of-a-bitch's neck!" Vriska shouted, standing up.

"Calm down Vriska, now I understand you're angry, but we can't let ourselves get too distracted ok? And besides-"

Feferi, removed a tall glass bottle with a long neck from the tray of medical supplies.

"Kanaya was nice enough to donate this gift from her internet girlfriend. It's a liquid, human soporific, called chpanney? Chapperene?

"_Champaign_," Tavros corrected.

"Yes, that's it," said Feferi. "Vriska, you give this to him to drink. It might help with the pain."

Vriska took the bottle from Feferi. There was a paper label on it that read "Betty Crocker Brand Generic Holiday Champaign" in sweeping red cursive letters, the I's of which were dotted with springs of holly. Through the clear glass, she could see that the bottle was three-quarters of the way full with some strange, bubbly orange liquid.

She uncorked the bottle and held it up to Tavros' lips.

"Drink," she instructed him.

"I can hold the bottle myself, Vriska," said Tavros taking the bottle out of her hands. "My _arms_ aren't paralyzed, remember?"

Tavros put the bottle up to his lips and drank deeply from it. Feferi removed the bloody sheet from Tavros' back and discarded it on the floor. Tavros paused for breath and drank from the bottle again. Feferi removed a clean, white towel from the tray of medical supplies, and doused it with disinfectant. Tavros handed the bottle back to Vriska and she put it down on the bed side table.

"Ok, I think I'm ready," he said, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. "Do your...do your w-worst."

Feferi lowered the disinfectant soaked towel onto Tavro's trembling, bloody back. Tavros yelped as towel brushed the deep slices in his injured skin, filling them with a painful burning sensation.

"...Ow!..._oww_...it stings," he moaned, trying to squirm away from the towel.

"Just try to relax, Tavros, I have to clean the cuts," said Feferi.

She moved down Tavros' back, slowly cleaning the blood away from his injuries. Vriska strolled closer the edge of the bed, and glanced down. Tavro's trembling grey hands clutched the white sheets underneath of him. Her eyes moved from the hand down his arm to his face, and his yellow eyes locked on hers. He was glaring at her as though she'd done this to him, in a way that some how, both begged for and forbid her comforting touch.

"...Tavros," she said, putting one of her hands on top of his.

"...I don't f-feel good," Tavros stuttered, closing his eyes.

His expression softened, as his will to push her away was, at this point, greatly diminished by the effects of the human soporific.

Feferi finished cleaning the injuries on Tavros' ass and legs, then tossed the now blood-stained white towel back into the cart of medical supplies. She then found a needle, and a spool of medical grade thread, which the removed from the cart and carried back over to the bed.

Tavros moved his hand out from underneath of Vriska's hand, and then, as though quickly rethinking this decision, placed his hand back on top of hers. His fingers curled around her hand and he closed his eyes. A pair of bronze tears spilled out from under his eye lids and over his bruised face.

"I'm scared," he whispered tearfully. "I don't uhh...I don't want to get st-stitches."

Vriska knelt down and kissed him on the forehead.

"Shhh...," she whispered. "It'll all be over soon."

"I want another drink," Tavros said, his eyes still closed; his fingers still gripping Vriska's hand.

Vriska took the bottle from bedside table and handed it to him. He snatched the bottle with his freehand, his sharp teeth clamping over the neck of it as he tipped his head backward and emptied the bottle into his mouth. Vriska took the empty bottle from him and placed it back on the bedside table.

"You better not fuck this up, Feferi," said Vriska.

"I promise he'll be just fine. The scars won't even be that noticeable when he's healed...I don't think," said Feferi.

She paused looking down at the threaded needle that she held, crushing the worried expression that threatened to betray her uncertainty. She'd only ever really done this with cuddle fish before. _But they were a lot smaller than trolls, _she thought_, right? Probably a lot harder to stitch back together._

_"_Are you ready, Tavros?" Feferi inquired.

"Uuughhh...horseroni..._I choose you!_"

"Just do it," said Vriska, looking up at Feferi as she patted Tavros' head. "He's obviously tripping balls on that bubbly orange crap you made him drink."

"Ok," said Feferi. "Here I go."

Feferi inserted the needle in a place near the edge of a deep slice in Tavros' shoulder. Tavros' eyes shot open and he screamed, tears spilling from his bloodshot eyes. His fingers tightened around Vriska's hand.

Feferi pulled the needle through the skin around the other side of the slice, forcing the edge of the laceration closed. Then, repeated the process, completing a second stitch.

"It _hurts_!" Tavros wept.

"I know, honey. I know," said Feferi, as she slid the needle into his back again, pulling a third stitch closed. "But I promise you'll feel much better when its done. Squeeze Vriska's hand if you feel scared."

Tavros screamed as the needle pierced his skin again. His fingers tightened around Vriska's hand.

An hour passed. Vriska grimaced, attempting to ignore the fact that Tavros was currently crushing the bones in her hand. His screams of pain were beginning to give her a headache, and if this wasn't bad enough, that damn drug he took was making him say the weirdest, most annoying things.

He put his hand on her belly and wept: "...I...I love you, pupa! I'm going to you buy..._hic!.._buy you a p-pony!"

"Tavros, what the fuck are you talking about?"

Tavros rubbed Vriska's stomach and wept: "Daddy has...Daddy has owies..."

* * *

More chapters to come. All of your questions will be answered. I am currently looking for volunteer beta readers to proofread my crappy writing. Let me know if you are interested.


	13. Chapter 13

**oF fIDUSPAWN aND _Cat_astrophe**

Tavros had always had the absolute worst taste in troll anime. He proved it on a daily bases by being an unironic fan of _Fiduspawn: Gotta Spend More Money on Cards and Toys! _

Vriska rolled her eyes as the large headed, poorly drawn cartoon troll on the television declared himself "the rad-ist fidu-master, did a brief and very stupid jig-like victory dance, and then existed left from the screen. A troll girl with cork-screw like horns and a sideways pony tail, stared open mouthed at the place where he had just been standing.

"Damn it Garnii, I will destroy you!" she screamed.

"No you won't," the first troll called back from off scream.

"Yes, I will!"

"No you won't!"

"Yes, I will!"

"You'll never collect more cards and toys than me!"

The cartoon troll girl with the sideways ponytail, turned to the cartoon troll boy standing next to her. He had short horns that curled outward and a red and white backwards facing baseball cap.

"What your gonna' let him kill all of my useless and stupid Fiduspawn and then get away with it. Avenge my crap Fiduspawn Anshch, avenge them!"

"Right," said Anshch. "Horseroni I choose you!"

Anshch through a red and white cube and a large horse made of elbow pasta emerged from it. The stupid looking, pasta horse ran toward Garnii.

"Go macaroni salad!" Garnii screamed. He through a purple and white cube at the ground and a massive plate of macaroni salad with big cartoon eyes emerged.

"Why do they all look like noodles?" Vriska asked Tavros, un-amused. After the ordeal with the stitches, Tavros had forgiven her for being herself, and was currently letting her sit next to him on the hospital bed, massaging one of his pointed ears.

"They're noodle type," explained Tavros very serious, his eyes locked on the television screen. "In the Fiduspawn world there are six types of Fiduspawn: noodle type, 8-bit type, refried bean type, plastic extension cord type, generic animal type and two for one special product placement type."

"You can't be serious," Vriska groaned.

"Go Betty-Crocker-Cake-Mix-A-Tron!" Garnii screamed, after Horseroni shot a stream of angel hair pasta at his bowl of noodles, apparently killing it.

A box of Betty Crocker Cake Mix with cartoon eyes appeared on the screen.

"Did I forget to mention that this was stupid?" said Vriska.

The box of cake mix spit itself in half like an ameba and then there were two of them.

"OMG!" the cartoon troll with the sideways ponytail proclaimed. "As if it wasn't a good enough bargain to begin with! I...I'm becoming confused by how good a bargain this is!"

"Careful Minshi," said Anshch. "Don't hurt yourself with confusion."

Nepeta walked into the room and sat down at the foot of the hospital bed, facing the television on the opposite wall.

"This show always makes me hungry," she said.

"Nepeta, get out of here," said Vriska. "My tolerance for stupidity is growing dangerously low."

On the television screen, a psychedelic, seizure-inducing pattern of lights was radiating from horseronni's open mouth. The deep voice of a very peppy male announcer ordered them to "Buy all our play sets and toys!" and then the show cut to commercial break.

Nepeta stood up and turned around, now facing Tavros and Vriska. Her expression was concerned.

"Equius doesn't want to take care of my pupa," she said rubbing her distended belly. "He says I'm the queen of hoars."

"Ok, first of all, how many times do I have to say this," said Vriska. "Bepreggards is not a real thing. There's no pupa growing in your belly. You're just getting fat. I'm telling you this because I'm your friend. Go on a fucking diet."

Tavros looked concerned.

"I'm so sorry to hear that Nepeta," he said.

"He thinks I slept with Karkat because I was spending a lot of time with him after he got beat up by Gamzee, but that was just as friends...and I told him that nothing happened, but he doesn't believe me!" Nepeta wove her grey fingers through her short dark hair, clutching her forehead. "Oh this is a _Cat_astrophe."

"Really, cat puns? At a time like this, when you're boring me with your fake, fictional problems?" said Vriska. "Did you ever think that maybe Equius doesn't want to hang out with you anymore because you've become a nutcase?"

Nepeta, ignored this particular comment. She hadn't expected any sympathy from Vriska. It was Tavros she had wanted to talk to.

"...And...and...Karkat said...he said that he'd take care of the pupa," Nepeta stuttered, forcing back tears. She averted her eyes from Vriska's scowling, irritated face, and chose to look at Tavros instead. Tavros looked back at her gently, his expression, patient, nonjudgmental, sympathetic. Nepeta gulped.

"But I don't love Karkat," Nepeta announced. "I love Equius. I love Equius, Tavros, what should I do?"

Tavros looked slightly taken aback at being asked to give advice.

"Uhhh...jeez, I don't know."

Nepeta looked imploringly at him; goading him for an answer.

"I give terrible advice. My advice is not to uhh...is not to take advice from me."

Nepeta didn't look away, but continued to stare at him, her eyes shining with unshed, moss-colored tears. It were as though, for some reason, she were confident that he knew the answer.

"I guess...," said Tavros after awhile. "I guess...since you're going to be a mother soon you should uhhh...you should think more about being responsible and less about love. Who do you think would be the better father?

"They both suck if you ask me," said Vriska, putting her arm around Tavros.

"Vriska," Tavros began, but Nepeta interrupted him.

"No, she's right," Nepeta choked, running a hand through her dark hair nervously, and then she sprinted from the room, slamming the door quickly shut behind her.

Vriska turned to Tavros.

"What gave you the idea to say that," she said to him angrily. "Is that what this is to you? More about being responsible and less about love? So what are you going to do when you find out that I'm not really bepreggards because bepreggards is a big fucking lie and doesn't actually exist? Are you just going to break up with me?"

"Pregnant," corrected Tavros.

"What?"

"Its called Pregnant."

"What ever."

"I love you Vriska, you know that," said Tavros.

"Do you?"

"I do," said Tavros. "Do you love me?"

"Now let's not get carried away," said Vriska.

"Well do you?" Tavros countered.

"I chose not to answer that fucking ridiculous question," said Vriska, crossing her arms.

"How exactly do you feel about me, Vriska," said Tavros. "I'd like to know."

"Duhhh...I think you should think more about being responsible and less about love!" Vriska mocked. "Fuck this shit, I'm gonna' go eat some more chocolate cake."

Vriska stood up and walked out of the room. The commercial break ended and the disembodied voice of the perky male announced invited the audience to "guess that Fiduspaun!"

Tavros closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, but with no painkillers to detract from the brutal ache in his battered body, this seemed impossible. He focused on the pain, because thinking about the things that had happened to him was far more horrible.

"Owwww..."

A hideous memory forced its way into Tavros' mind. Tavros quickly tried to force himself to think about something else... Rose Lalonde blathering about all of the philological problems that he apparently had now, though the web cam.

That maniacal cackle. _Tavros, according to Freud...blah blah blah blardy blar blar... _The feeling of that cold metal restraint around his neck..._Men are sexually attracted to women who remind them of their mothers...though since trolls don't have mothers I guess it would be hard for this rule to apply. Maybe the lack of parental figures is why trolls crave coldness and absence in their sexual partners. Maybe it is because the parental figures are absent and therefore cold. Ooh, I should definitely use that for my doctoral thesis. Aren't I smart blardy blar_ blar...The feeling of Gamzee violently seizing a clump of his hair and forcing it against the metal restraint_. _The air flow being cut off. The sick panic. His eyes bulging out of his head. _Say my name, motherfucker...No. Fuck you. No. Leave me alone. _Tavros forced the bad thought out of his mind with an image of Rose Lalonde, staring cynically at him through the web cam; smoothing her short blonde hair as she readjusted her black headband; riffling through a pile of papers on her clipboard. _Humans and trolls cope with traumatic experiences in several ways, Tavros, and these ways are blah blar blar blar blar..._

Tavros buried his face in his pillow and grabbed the base of both of his horns, trying to comfort himself. He didn't want to feel this alone anymore; this unwanted.

_Denial...I chose you!_


End file.
